


nobody can see in our hollow tree

by mwildsides



Category: Thor (2011)
Genre: F/M, M/M, au meme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-21
Updated: 2012-01-12
Packaged: 2017-10-27 17:28:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 37,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/298266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mwildsides/pseuds/mwildsides
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on <a href="http://assguard.tumblr.com/post/13445202082">this</a> AU meme on tumblr: Thor and Sif are unhappily married. One night, on a business trip to New Mexico, Thor meets Loki and can’t help but feel an attraction he hasn’t felt towards anyone in years. In a matter of time, Thor finds himself in too deep and has to hide his relationship with Loki from Sif because no matter what he tells himself, he still loves her. The guilt he feels towards both his wife and Loki begins to strain both relationships and Thor finds his world start to crumble when Loki gives him an ultimatum: “It’s her or me.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I saw that meme and immediately could not not write it, for what I've experienced second-hand of an affair. It's not going to be full length, yet anyway, but we shall see. I also feel that my Thor is incredibly OOC, but that is up to you to decide now. Title from a Billy Bragg song.

Their kitchen is nice. It’s outfitted in white subway tile and marble, all the newest chrome-lined appliances, and cabinets filled with expensive flatware. In the morning, the sun fills it up to the brim with soft white light, and when Sif cooks breakfast, it’s a comfortable place. Or it would be if they still loved each other, Thor thinks. 

Instead breakfast is a tense, brittle affair; Thor sits cross legged behind two panels of newspaper with one hand on a mug of black coffee, while Sif fastidiously eats her scrambled egg whites, English muffin, and orange juice _just_ like she does every other morning. Like every morning for the past two years. And it’s silent, uncomfortably, resentfully silent. They’re infinitely unhappy, both of them known that and have known that for god knows how long, but it’s been such an insurmountable length of time that it’s like a game now. Neither is going to give in, neither is going to throw up their hands and scream “I quit.” even though they’re both dying to. 

It’s childish, boring, and Thor has to wonder what Sif is holding on to. Some semblance of the love she felt five years ago, when after six months, he got down on one knee and asked her to spend forever with him. Looking back, Thor knows that’s where he went wrong; he was like a love-sick teenager, and after 24 weeks, he thought that Sif was simply and irrevocably _the one._ His father, CEO of Asgard Corp and subsequently Thor’s boss, reluctantly approved, but warned his boy of his rashness. Thor couldn’t be convinced, though, and after nine months, he and Sif were wed. 

He regrets it all now. It’s painful, and not in the bittersweet way, in the unpleasant, itching way. But neither is going to concede, or admit that this marriage failed. They had a multi-million dollar house in Malibu, three cars, a cabin up in Big Bear and no kids to soil their furniture from Restoration Hardware. Thor had a fantastic job, friends to watch football and go drinking with, and a hot wife that he didn’t sleep with anymore. 

What more could a guy want? 

“How long are you going to be gone?” Sif mumbles, deigning to look up at Thor from across the table they bought at Ikea. He sips his coffee, takes a look at the obituaries, and closes the paper. 

“Three days.” The blond mumbles, moves his phone from the table and checks his emails. There’s nothing there, but he still scrolls around for a while so he can avoid Sif’s gaze he can feel burning into his forehead. 

“Alright. I have a showing today at three.” She adds, and takes a bite of her muffin. Sif works in real-estate, and Thor pretends he cares. 

“My flight’s at twelve,” He’s actually not flying, he’s driving, but his bags are already at the door, waiting for him. It’s almost 9:30, “I should probably get going.” He doesn’t really need to say it, but he looks up at his wife who nods, and then stands up. 

It’s a sign of how much things have changed that Thor feels relief when he leaves the house. He tosses all of his bags in the trunk of his BMW X5, and takes off. Thor drives with the windows down, breathing in the cool sea air until he’s in the desert, and even the wind that whips his blond hair back wildly is hot. From there he turns up the air conditioning, the radio, and loses himself in the long drive out to Santa Fe. 

Having your dad own one of the biggest tech companies in the U.S. had _always_ been a blessing. Thor went to the best boarding schools money could buy, then it was off to Stanford on a football scholarship (not that he needed it), then after four years studying business and marketing, he stepped right into a position at Asgard Corp, and it’s been cake ever since then. 

But Thor isn’t, in any way, shape, or form, happy. He’s blessed with all these things, he’s been lucky and life, but success isn’t a synonym for happiness. 

These “little vacations” he gets, courtesy of the company, are a relief. Thor can be alone, even if he has to go to a few meetings, but still he’s not around the people he knows. Here and there around the country, he can blend in to the masses of people at a bar or restaurant and not have to pretend. 

He gets the best hotel in down town Santa Fe (which could pass as some sort of mediocre bed and breakfast in Palm Springs), drags his suitcases to his room before he takes a shower and dresses in his usual white-button-up-pressed-black-slacks business get up before he has to head down to the first of two marketing seminars this weekend. He didn’t _need_ to take three days for this, but hey, he thinks, why not. 

These meetings and training symposiums are always mind-numbingly boring, but thankfully Thor meets Tony Stark at this one, head of Stark Industries. They’ve been good friends for quite a while, and Asgard has known to lend a hand to some of Stark’s more complicated machinations. The two of them sit at a table at the back of the conference room laughing lowly and exchanging their most debaucheries. 

Thor wishes he was in Tony’s place; single sometimes, didn’t really have to do much to keep the company running, didn’t really have to pretend. It made Thor seem like a petulant, ungrateful little kid to want even more than he already had but....everyone wants what they don’t have, right? He envied Tony anyway. 

When Stark asks, “Hows Sif?” Thor wilts a little. His smile fades, his blue gaze narrows at the white table cloth, and he knows it’s the opposite reaction he should have when being asked about his wife. He shrugs. 

“Fine,” He sighs the answer, and involuntarily rubs his ring with his thumb, “She’s fine.” Tony arches an eyebrow. 

“You sound _really_ unenthusiastic.” He points out, _thank you captain obvious,_ and sits back in his chair. Thor doesn’t really know what to say. 

“I don’t know.” The blond mumbles, picking up his water glass.

“When’s the last time you got laid, man?” Tony sounds like he’s trying to help, but Tony Stark isn’t good at advice. Or at least, no one should take it. Thor shrugs, because he doesn’t even want to answer. 

“It’s been.....six months since we’ve actually had sex-”

“Jesus sweet _Christ,_ why are you married then? Isn’t that why people get married, so you always have someone to fuck?” 

Thor snorts a laugh, and Tony gives a chuckle as well. 

“I don’t know,” Thor laughs with rumble, though this isn’t funny to him at all. He’s faithful, but he’s reaching his limits as far as sex goes. Masturbation only goes so far, “At a certain point, I just don’t even want to with her anymore.” He admits, eyes going unfocused as he stares at the wall. 

“Wow...” Tony sighs, “That’s sad, Thor. Like really, really sad. Like, you’re going out with me for drinks tonight, sad. If you catch my drift.” Tony could drink Thor under the table, maybe even border on alcoholism, but he’s a fun guy, so Thor smiles. 

“Sure,” answers Thor, and Tony grins triumphantly. 

 

Thor knows, he _knows_ that nights out with Tony always end....eventfully to say the least. Sometimes good, sometimes not so good, it’s always a crap shoot. So when he finds himself just this side of drunk at a bar in down town Santa Fe, Thor is a little surprised because this is pretty tame for Tony. Usually it’s _“Look I know this guy who has this place with some stuff and some girls,”_ or something like that, and it’ll usually be illegal in some way. But this is just a bar, and they’ve just had a few beers. Thor isn’t wearing his wedding ring while Tony is scoping out girls that are probably below both of their standards, but then again, does Tony Stark have standards? Thor is pretty sure he’s sleeping with a _guy_ anyway, or so he hears through the grapevine. 

“Look, Tony, it’s fine, I’m tired, I drove out here and I’m just not too uh-” Thor begins, but Tony makes a face and clicks his tongue. 

“Oh come _on_ Thor!” He practically whines, and Thor laughs. 

“You can wine and dine me tomorrow night, how about that?” He counters with a grin, as Stark slides off his bar stool. 

“Whatever, I’m goin somewhere else then, you have fun in your empty hotel room tonight big guy.” He swats Thor’s shoulder with the back of his hand when he’s finally on his feet. The blond just nods and chuckles. 

“Yeah I sure will.” He says as he watches Tony pull on his suit jacket. 

“Get your dick wet, man, you need it something fierce.” That is a goodbye anyone could expect out of Tony Stark, but Thor shakes his head and chuckles as the dark-haired man waves, walking toward the entrance of the bar. With a sigh and a lingering smile, Thor goes back to his half-finished glass of beer to take a long swill. 

Initially he only meant to finish the rest of what was in that glass before leaving, but he ended up ordering another. As he sipped at that one he glanced around the bar at the men and women chattering, laughing, drinking. They were all finely dressed and made up, but Thor found none of the appealing. Maybe Sif had spoiled him, but he just wasn’t interested in anyone. Not the girls, and not any of the men either. It was probably some sort of sign that he shouldn’t be here in the first place just because he needs to touch another human being, needs to be touched. 

 _Go home,_ he tells himself, _Get some sleep._

He would have, too, if someone hadn’t slid onto a bar stool at the end opposite Thor. Exactly opposite, he notices when he glances up at the stranger. And as he peels out of his jacket, Thor can’t help but watch, his eyes just can’t seem to move. The man is _beautiful,_ and that’s not a thought Thor _ever_ has. But there it is, and he cannot look away from the man’s face, skin smooth and white like a full moon, where his hair was the black night surrounding it. Then a pair of green eyes snap to meet his, and Thor quickly looks away.

Hurriedly he guzzles down the rest of his beer, orders another, and tries not to glance back up at the man sitting across the bar. He wants to, but he has a little more tact than to stare. Even if it was a complimentary stare. 

When his next beer slides over the bar top to him, though, Thor glances up and past the bar tender to the man at the other end. His narrow chin is propped up in a thin, elegant hand. That was a good word for him, Thor thinks. Elegant, a little imperious looking, with his long ebony hair and high, shapely cheekbones. He has thin lips, but that doesn’t matter much to Thor, they still have a sort of luxurious look to them. The stranger has his attention focused on his phone, so he doesn’t notice as Thor’s blue eyes admired him. And admire they did, for a long while as the blond sips on his beer. 

The black-haired man moves like a cat, all calculated, careful grace even if all he’s doing is bringing his gin and tonic to his lips. It still caught and reeled-in Thor’s attention, until he found himself zoning out a little, hand groping blindly for his glass. He wants more than _anything_ at that moment, to get up and make his way over to the lovely stranger, sit and talk with him for a while. Ask him his name and what he does and where he is from. It all intrigues Thor, but something keeps him rooted in his seat. Maybe the weight of his wedding band in his pocket. 

Or the fact that he doesn’t know what to say or how to say it. Normally (in the first few years of his and Sif’s marriage) Thor was quite the charmer, could talk easily and companionably to any one. Flirting is his forte, that much was true and Thor is confident but....right now he just doesn’t know what to say. 

But maybe he wouldn’t have to say anything after all. 

The man looks up again, and before Thor could look away, the corner of his lips quirk into a devilish smirk. Thor’s heart flies into his throat, even if he tries to swallow it down. He watches with some sort of rapt anxiety as the man stands, wraps a long-fingered hand around his glass, and moves around the corner of the bar. Thor licks his dry lips, eyes unable to leave the man as he makes his way toward the blond, face placid and the definition of collected. Thor on the other hand, was probably the exact opposite. 

“I suppose I should be flattered that you’ve been staring at me for about,” The man pulls his sleeve back to look at his watch, “Five minutes.” His voice is silk smooth, beautiful and soft in all the right ways and Thor’s heart is racing in his chest. He wants, so very much. 

“Sorry,” Thor smiles, gathering himself a bit as he turns to face the stranger, “I um..couldn’t help it, sorry.” He says simply, with a shrug, and runs his hand through his long blond hair. The man purses his still-smiling lips, and slides onto the stool next to Thor. 

“Oh don’t be sorry, it’s quite alright,” He sets his glass next to Thor’s on the bar top, “What’s your name?” He asks softly, his head cocked to the side as he says those syrupy words. Thor bites his lip; up close the man is even more attractive, even _more_ beautiful. There was something slightly effeminate in the angles of his features, his wide, jade doe-eyes. 

“Thor,” replies the the blond, voice more confident than he feels, “And you?” He asks, a ghost of a smile on his own lips. 

“Thor,” The stranger muses as he leans his elbow on the bar top, “I like that. My name is Loki.” He extends a hand out to Thor, and the blond grasps it reverently. It’s cool but soft in contrast to his own, and he wants to pull Loki straight off his bar stool and into him, kiss him wild and breathless. He _will,_ he promises himself, he’s going to. 

“Nice to meet you.” The generic greeting feels odd, but it doesn’t really matter, at least they’re talking. Loki smiles again, and Thor doesn’t miss the way his eyes rake over the blond’s for. 

“You’re all dressed up.” He asserts, with a quirk of his eyebrows. Thor smiles, nods, and reaches for his beer. 

“Yeah,” He says, before taking a swallow, “Marketing seminar.” Thor pulls a face after swallowing, and Loki gives a silent “aaah”. 

“You’re in town on business then?” His eyes are bright with something Thor can’t accurately define.

“More like a working vacation, but yeah, pretty much.” Thor replies with an easy shrug and a smile. Loki nods and takes a sip of his own drink. 

“I’m doing the same.” His grin changes then to something much more mischievous than a smile. Thor likes it, it makes him feel anxious for what is to come. 

“Here’s to vacations then.” Thor says stupidly, before he takes a swill of his beer, and Loki does the same with his gin and tonic. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on this AU meme on tumblr: Thor and Sif are unhappily married. One night, on a business trip to New Mexico, Thor meets Loki and can’t help but feel an attraction he hasn’t felt towards anyone in years. In a matter of time, Thor finds himself in too deep and has to hide his relationship with Loki from Sif because no matter what he tells himself, he still loves her. The guilt he feels towards both his wife and Loki begins to strain both relationships and Thor finds his world start to crumble when Loki gives him an ultimatum: “It’s her or me.”

It’s obvious to them both where this is going to end, so after another drink, Thor pulls enough courage together to ask Loki back to his hotel room. 

 _“Why not mine?”_ Loki asks with a smirk, but he’s standing up anyway, placing a twenty on the bar top. Thor just shrugs, because he doesn’t really care he just--....It’s amazing how quickly want for this stranger had bubbled up in his chest, but all of a sudden he wanted to touch Loki, run his hands through that ebony hair, pull up that crisp black shirt and run his hands along the smooth, taught expanse of Loki’s stomach. More than anything, he wanted to feel. 

Now, Thor had never done this with a man, hell he’d never even kissed one, but  here they were, climbing into Thor’s company car and weaving through Santa Fe’s narrow streets. Loki was quiet the whole way, calm smirk on his face as he watched the city pass them by. Thor, on the other hand, wrung his hands on the wheel, because this was really happening. He was going to have sex, with a man, with a very _pretty_ man, no less. It was exhilarating as hell, and while he expected to feel guilty, he didn’t. That probably wasn’t a good thing, but he didn’t care anymore. He was going for it, and why the fuck not. Sif probably did her fair share of cheating. 

Not that that was any excuse to use, but whatever. 

Once at the hotel, Thor parks his car in the small parking garage, and he and Loki walk to his room. They’re silent, stiflingly so, but Thor thinks it’s better that way. He isn’t nervous, but he can feel the adrenaline in all of his limbs, making his steps quicker, causing his hands to tremble lightly as he pulls the key to his room. As he does, Loki runs his hand down the center of Thor’s back, warmth bleeding through the fabric of his starched white shirt. It rests in the dip between Thor’s muscled shoulders as the blond twisted the door handle. 

Thor very nearly spun on his heel to turn to face Loki, and reached out to take him roughly by the hips. Loki pressed up and in until their mouths met with no resistance, lips open and tongues ready to explore. As he stumbles back, Thor grips Loki about his slim waist more firmly, inhaling deeply into the kiss and delving his tongue deeper into the other man’s mouth. Loki sucked on his tongue greedily, boney hands coming up to grip at Thor’s back, curling in against the blond through his shirt. They stumble back, feet tangling until Thor feels his highs hit the edge of the bed, and down they go. It’s fast, it’s all too fast and he can hardly breath but _god_ it feels good...

Loki bites and sucks at Thor’s lips until they _hurt,_ and from there moves down to his jaw, mostly nipping and mouthing along the stubbled line of it. Thor pants, moving his hands up Loki’s back, pulling at his shirt as the slighter man sucks a mark into his neck. The blond groans and reaches one hand up to Loki’s black hair, curls his fingers to pull him up for another scathing kiss. Their tongues tangle once again and Loki, straddling one of Thor’s legs, grinds his crotch down against the blond’s thigh. 

“Shit..” Thor breathes when they break away for air suddenly, and Loki looks down at him. That long ebony hair is disheveled already, framing Loki’s pale face with wild strands. He licks his lips quickly before his white teeth are bared in another wily smile. 

“How do you want me?” He asks in a low, sensuous tone, like honey, as he shifts against Thor. The blond can feel Loki’s erection pressing against his leg, and when he glances down, can see his own pushing out against the fabric of his slacks as well. But he looks up at Loki in bewilderment, unsure of how to answer. 

“Uh-um...how do you want-...I don’t-..” He stops, his coherency clearly gone. Loki bites his shining, red bottom lip and runs a hand back through his hair. 

“You’ve never done this have you darling?” Loki places a hand on Thor’s chest, fingers splayed and touching at the buttons that keep it closed. Thor swallows thickly, and nods subtly, for he feels a little....chagrin. But Loki just grins wide above him, and dismounts, standing between Thor’s knees, “Well thats perfectly alright. I’ll take good care of you.” He _purrs_ and Thor has to stifle a whimper as Loki unbuckles his belt, all the while keeping his gaze locked with Thor’s. 

He lets his belt go, pants hanging open as he reaches for Thor’s shirt and begins to undo the buttons. Thor watches, and Loki pops the buttons slowly, his lips pressing light, teasing kisses to the skin of Thor’s chest as the white fabric parts under his hands. Thor isn’t sure what to do with his hands, so while Loki undresses him, trailing those maddeningly deft kisses down his torso, he simply bunches them into fists at his sides. His eyes slip close as Loki’s lips drift down, delicately moist as they kiss lower on this stomach, and the slighter man gets to his knees. That shocks Thor, and he looks down to watch what Loki will do next. His lovely white hands drift to Thor’s hips, pushing aside the fabric of his shirt as he leans in to nuzzle the sensitive skin of the blond’s lower stomach, just above the hem of his slacks. 

It’s....if he’s going to get a blow job well thats.....that makes this situation a lot less horrible. It’s _just_ a blow job, where as sex with another man is...well theres really no coming back from that, is there? If Sif were to find out--

 _No,_ his thought was accompanied by a light sigh as Loki pulled his slacks down, _No, I don’t have to tell her. She’s not_ ** _ever_** _going to find out. Never. It’s o-oh god-it’s okay...._ And then Loki’s spindly fingers are gently squeezing the line of his hard cock through his black briefs. Thor bites the inside of his lip hard and sighs. Loki looks up at him, hands rubbing along Thor’s length. For a moment the blond thinks he’s going to say something, but instead Loki quickly hooks his fingers into the hem of Thor’s briefs and tugs until his cock springs free. An almost gleeful expression passes over Loki’s face rapidly, then it’s gone. 

He hums in approval, smiling as he takes Thor’s thick cock in hand. The coolness of his fingers make Thor gasp softly, eyelids fluttering closed again when Loki boldly leans in to lap at the leaking tip. But it’s short lived, the warmth of his tongue, because the black-haired man stands as he pumps Thor lazily. 

“You’ll need to open me up,” He whispers against Thor’s lips and reaches a free hand into the pocket of his trousers, “You have a big cock, so you’ll need to use your fingers first.” His thin lips bend into an absolutely wicked grin. Thor licks his lips, because he’s pretty sure his mouth has gone dry. Loki’s hand leaves him in favor of a wallet he’s produced from his pocket, and he opens the folds to reveal a condom and a packet of (Thor guessed) lube, “Here.” Loki murmurs next, before pressing the two packets into Thor’s hand. 

For a minute, the blond just stands there staring at his hand as Loki stripa out of his clothes, a bit more than dumbfounded. Apparently Loki is always prepared, the little boy scout. Thor smiles at the thought and clenches the packet of lube between his teeth as he shrugs out of his shirt, and finishes pushing down his slacks. Out of the corner of his eye, as he tears open the condom foil, Thor watches a very naked Loki climb onto the bed and settle on his back over the duvet. Theres a slight tremor in Thor’s square hands as he rolls the condom onto his engorged cock, heavy in his grip. Thor sighs at his own touch but knew that what was coming was oh so much better. From there he turns, eyes raking over Loki’s svelte body, the long, beautiful, slender lines of his chest, stomach, and thighs, before he crawls onto the bed. 

“Mmm,” Loki hums again as Thor moves to kneel between his spread legs, “Look at you,” His lithe hands come to light along the curve of the blond’s hip bones, teasing and rubbing gently, “Knew you were going to be big but.....” His emerald gaze spirals down and rests on Thor’s prick, “It’s quite lovely, your cock.” Loki smiles impishly, and Thor chuckles at the comment. 

“Thank you?” He says, cocking an eyebrow as he tears open the small packet of lube and squeezes it’s contents over his fingers messily. Loki bites the corner of his lip and spreads his knees a little wider to bare himself to Thor, giving the blond better access to his hole. Dark-lashed eyelids flutter, and Loki licks his lips in anticipation. He knows he’s probably leaking, can feel it, but he doesn’t want to touch himself just yet. Thor rubs his fingers together, distributing the lubricant, but presses against Loki’s hole with two at first, wetting it. Then, gently, he presses one finger in, the ring of muscle tight and fluttering around his digit. 

He’s unsure of everything, unsure if it hurts Loki, because the expression on the slighter man’s face is completely impassive. Maybe not--Thor presses in another finger, too hard, he thinks--and Loki squirms. His narrow, boney hips twist a little and again he’s licking his lips and smiling.

“Just like that,” He whispers as encouragement to Thor, “Watch.” Loki urges. Absently Thor thinks he shouldn’t know what Loki means so quickly, but he does, and his eyes drift down to the dark-haired man’s opening where his thick fingers are pressed in nearly to the knuckle. The sight makes him sigh, and as he begins to fuck Loki like this, slow and easy, his erection throbs insistently against his stomach. He crooks his fingers gently on a downstroke, trying to find the spongy bundle of nerves he _knows_ is inside the other man. It works, apparently, because Loki whines and pushes back abruptly. 

“You like that?” Thor breathes, and Loki grins wide, all sharp white teeth. He gives no answer, just shifts his hips and curls an elegant hand around his weeping cock. Thor lifts a free hand to stroke himself lightly as well, though it’s a bit hindered by the condom. 

He bites his lips and pulls his fingers free, only to add another. Loki’s breath leaves him in a gasp, because it hurts just a little, but he smiles lasciviously anyway, and presses his shoulders into the coverlet as Thor continues to work him open.

It feels like a painful amount of time Thor spends opening Loki up, scissoring his fingers at the slighter man’s behest. After a while, Thor can’t really help himself. His throat is tight just watching his fingers disappear into Loki’s slick, pink hole, then stretch it gently, and lust, like a red hot branding iron, is coiled tight in his belly. It makes him grit his teeth with impatience.

“Can I..” He mumbles, shuffling closer on his knees. Loki nods, breathless form Thor’s ministrations, and reaches out to grasp at Thor’s hips. The blond, lips parted and hand wrapped around his own cock, lines himself up and shifts forward just so. When the glans nudges against his opening, Loki’s breath catches and holds, eyes shut as he waits for the stretch and burn. 

With a restrained, breathy moan Thor pushes his way in, inch by inch. Loki whimpered, though his bedmate is unsure whether it’s out of pleasure or the pain. Thor shakes with careful restraint, though all he wants to do is slam into Loki, thrust violently into his _impossilbly tight heat, Jesus Christ, nothing is this tight...._  

Loki licks his lips and sighs finally, pushing his hips down against Thor as much as he can manage, feeling how the action helps the blond’s length sink into him deeper. 

“Fuck,” Thor sighs, voice tight and rough and exquisite, “You’re fucking...ti-tight...” He manages, the words rushed because he really doesn’t want to be talking right now, when he’s almost fully engulfed in the clenching velvety grip of Loki’s body. 

“Mmm,” Loki hums in agreement, and squeezes his eyes shut. It burns, and he’s almost _too_ full of Thor, but it’s good, so painfully good “Please move.” His voice comes out as a dreamy sigh. Thor gives a long sigh as well, as if he’s been holding his breath for a long time, then leans over Loki, bracing a hand next to his head. He grinds his hips harder into the smaller man’s, just for emphasis, before pulling back. The slide back in is easier, a thousand times easier as Loki’s body accepts his intrusion, and finally Thor lets loose an indulgent, throaty moan. He lets his body rest atop Loki’s and loops an arm under the smaller man’s knee to allow himself deeper. 

 

It’s debatably the best sex Thor’s ever had. Loki is....he doesn’t really have words to express how inhumanly beautiful and sensual Loki is. His movements, the dig of his nails into Thor’s fleshy shoulders, the soft keens he gives and the way his hips roll up to meet Thor’s, are all beyond....everything. Thor’s never experienced anything like this with _anyone._ Not Sif, not the girls he plowed through in college. It’s definitely, unfortunately, and gloriously, the best sex he’s ever had. Theres a point, not long after starting, when he has to slow down, collect himself or he’s going to come too soon. Loki understands, apparently, and runs his hands through Thor’s cornsilk hair, kisses him gently and stills as the blond collects himself. 

That moment is one that Thor looks back on constantly. He wonders if it’s when he fell in love with Loki. 

The pace after that is just this side of too fast, and it doesn’t take long for either of them to reach their climaxes. In a surprising turn that fans the flame of Thor’s ego, Loki comes first, mouth open in a silent cry and face furrowed as if it were painful. It was an exquisite expression of course, with that black hair curling gently against his sweat-dampened temples. His nails dig into Thor’s shoulders even harder, no doubt leaving marks that will show in the morning, but Thor can’t find it in himself to care. Not immediately anyway because he can feel that familiar clenching tight in his sac, the little ripples of pleasure becoming more and more intense. His rhythm breaks, hips stuttering as Loki’s body clenches around him convulsively, and then it’s there. 

Thor moans, loud and deep and indulgent as he rides out his orgasm, spilling deep inside of Loki. The dark haired man looks up at him, green eyes alight with glazed satisfaction, and reddened lips parted as he watches Thor come with some no small amount of fascination. When it seems to be over, Thor slumps against Loki, head bowed into the curve of his neck and chest heaving against Loki’s. 

They stay like that for quiet, drawn out moments as Thor catches his breath against Loki’s damp skin. It feels like forever, but he’s content to rest there for a while, boneless, chest and hand sticky, and his heart still galloping away in his chest. When he’s collected himself enough, Thor rolls off of Loki, pulling out abruptly. They both utter a sound of surprise at the loss of such deep contact as Thor slumped into the pillows. 

He focuses his eyes on the ceiling for a while, vision and mind clearing. 

He’s made an incredible mistake, he acknowledges that much. But as the cogs of his mind begin to turn, he realizes he’ll most likely never see this man again. The thought that Thor regrets that is a fleeting one, but it’s still present before he brushes it off. With a heavy sigh, he runs a hand over his face, then through his hair, pushing it away from his face. 

“Christ...” Thor says, breaking the fragile silence that’s settled over them. He should get up and take a shower, because he’s....well his stomach is a mess of _someone else’s come_ , but he’s just...too tired or something or maybe he just doesn’t care. 

“What is it?” Loki coos, and it doesn’t sound like he cares all _that_ much. He rolls onto his stomach so he can look at Thor, and props his chin in his hand. His black hair is wild and looks like some sort of demonic halo encircling his head, but Thor figures it suites him. Loki seems to be all seduction and mystery, with those impishly bright eyes and near constant smirk. Thor merely shakes his head in reply, and looks at Loki. The dark-haired man stares back, lips pursed and eyes narrowed contemplatively. 

After a long, long silence his lips stretch into a wily grin. 

“What’s her name?” As every other time he had spoken that night, his voice is sly and sharp. For a moment, Thor balks. 

...Was he that obvious? _Had_ he left his ring on...? He steals a glance at his left hand, and Loki catches him. Thor doesn’t want to answer, but....he does. 

“Sif.” His voice is unsure, but there it is anyway. Loki purses his lips and rearranges a little, so one arm is rested over Thor’s chest, then rests his chin on that hand as he gazes up at the blond. 

“And you fuck like you haven’t in _years,_ so you must be married.” Loki says it so easily. Of course Thor attempts to look nonplussed, but fails and feels his face bend into a frown. It’s almost terrifying that Loki knows, and they’re talking about this. Talking about this after they’ve had sex. Talking about Thor’s _wife,_ while they’re still naked? 

It’s a night of frightening firsts. 

Thor nods against his pillow, “How did you know?” He asks meekly, licking his lips. They feel like he’s been biting them for hours, tender and raw. Loki purses his lips again, and arches an eyebrow. 

“You seem.....tense. Frigid may be the right term, but. Lucky guess.” He shrugs lightly, and Thor’s brows knit. 

“I think it goes without saying that I am _not_ frigid.” _I just had sex with a stranger, a man no less,_ goes unsaid. Loki smirks and moves his hand, placing a delicate kiss to Thor’s chest. 

“Indeed, you are _quite_ the opposite.” He says lowly and pushes himself up to kiss the blond on the mouth this time. Thor sighs into it. He shouldn’t indulge like this any more than he already has, but god... _why does this feel so good?_ His lips part obligingly under the gentle brush of Loki’s tongue, and all of a sudden they’re kissing slow and deep, Thor’s right hand reaching up to cradle the back of the other-man’s head. 

They kiss, all searching tongues and soft lips, until neither of them can breathe. Loki pulls away then to settle against Thor’s shoulder as he closes his eyes. The blond allows it, even though everything in him screams _leave leave get out I can’t get out get out get out._ As he listens to Loki’s breathing slow, Thor stays awake, staring, thinking. His mind wanders home, to Sif, laying alone in their California king, probably reading a magazine even though she’s got the TV on. She does that-- _it’s so annoying._

It’s not that Thor doesn’t love Sif--he always will in some capacity--but the life they lead now is all wrong. Neither of them is happy, and they both know it, yet somehow leaving just isn’t an option. Thor wonders if deep down, they stay because it’s comfortable, safe. It’s everything they _should_ be happy with, but aren’t. 

He falls asleep thinking of Sif, with a stranger sleeping at his side. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on this AU meme on tumblr: Thor and Sif are unhappily married. One night, on a business trip to New Mexico, Thor meets Loki and can’t help but feel an attraction he hasn’t felt towards anyone in years. In a matter of time, Thor finds himself in too deep and has to hide his relationship with Loki from Sif because no matter what he tells himself, he still loves her. The guilt he feels towards both his wife and Loki begins to strain both relationships and Thor finds his world start to crumble when Loki gives him an ultimatum: “It’s her or me.”

Thor sleeps so deeply he doesn’t feel the weight shift next to him as Loki slinks out of bed, and in the morning when the blond wakes, he can hardly tell anything happened at all. His clothes are neatly discarded on the arm chair in the corner, the blankets are tucked around him messily, but really nothing seems out of place. He sits up and looks around, because maybe there are still a pair of tight fitted jeans pooled on the floor next to a pair of elegant black boots. But there’s nothing. 

For a while Thor sits in bed, chin propped in his hand as he turns the events of last night over and over in his mind. He can’t seemed to forget Loki’s hands, his long fingers and the way they pushed and pulled, _demanded_. It was unlike anything Thor’s ever experienced....

But the guilt. 

It feels like lead in his stomach, pinning him to the bed. Why, he isn’t sure, because it didn’t seem to matter last night, but now it’s....very real and present in the daylight. With a sigh Thor pushes back the covers, stands and stretches. There’s no note on the bedside table like he thinks there should be, theres _nothing._ Thor turns on the spot to make sure, looks around on all the flat surfaces, but there isn’t even a whisper. 

With a shake of his head, Thor digs his wedding band out of the pocket of his wrinkled slacks and slips it on. He looks at it for a while, before making his way to the bathroom for a shower. The hot water doesn’t clear his head like he expects it to. 

When he’s done there, he dresses quickly, and heads down to the hotel restaurant for breakfast. He drinks three cups of black coffee, reads the LA Times, and tries not to think of what happened last night. It’s a fruitless effort, however, because _everything_ is coming back to him in stunning detail. How Loki stared up at him with those _eyes,_ the way he moved _with_ Thor, the gradual, elegant arch of his body as he rose to meet the blond’s thrusts. Thor stares at his phone sitting next to his plate for a good five minutes as the fresh memories play behind his eyes like a slideshow. He stops himself by picking up his phone, knowing that if he keeps in indulging in the replay of last night, he’s going to end up hard. So he unlocks his phone, and hits a few  Thor scratches his bearded chin absently as he listens to the ring on the other line. 

 _“Hello?”_ Sif answers, and Thor licks his lips. 

“It’s just me.” He smiles, though he doesn’t know why. The other end is quiet for a moment, as Sif no doubt wonders why he’s calling. And she should question with good reason, Thor doesn’t _just call to check up_ anymore. Hasn’t in three years. 

 _“Oh hi.....Is...is something wrong?”_ He wants to say yes, wants to go home but obviously he holds his tongue. 

“No, no I’m just...bored, I don’t have to be at the seminar till noon.” 

_“It’s 8:30.”_

“Yeah.” 

Silence. 

 _“Balder called.”_ Sif says finally, of Thor’s younger brother. 

“Did he?” Thor asks, sounding overly enthused, “For what?” 

 _“Nothing really, to talk to you I suspect. Or maybe to come visit, I’m not sure.”_ Balder goes to college and plays football in Colorado, and even though he’s in his last year, he still wants to visit all the time. Says he doesn’t like the cold or the hippies in Boulder. 

“Figures,” Thor chuckles fondly, “Did he say anything else?” He asks as he licks his lips, and watches the other people in the restaurant. Theres an old couple a few tables away, a girl sitting by herself reading the paper. 

 _“No. Just told me to tell you to call him when you have the time. So you could call him next, if you don’t find anything else to do.”_ There’s something biting about that statement, yet Sif was never intentionally venomous. 

“I will. Thank you.” 

 _“Mhm.”_ She hums disinterestedly, and Thor sighs heavily. He wishes he knew where this went bad. Where was the expiration date on their _marriage?_ Either way it’s still sitting in the back of the fridge, rotting. 

“Alright well...I’ll be back tomorrow afternoon.” He sighs, defeated. 

 _“Okay.”_ Sif of course, sounds bored, however bright. 

“Bye Sif.” Thor’s lets his head hang, and stares at his lap. 

_“Bye.”_

And the line goes dead all too quickly. Thor blinks rapidly down at his slacks, his shoes below that and sets his phone on the table. It’s easy to admit this doesn’t work, but leaving isn’t. Saying ‘I’m done, I quit, I can’t do this any longer.’ isn’t possible. Thor tries. Or he has been trying. He used to try. Now though, he doesn’t think he can keep it up, not anymore, not if Sif isn’t trying either. If he lets go even further, maybe she’ll realize something. 

Thor runs a hand back through his hair, works out a tangle, and dials Balder’s number. He needs the distraction before his mind wanders again. 

 _“Thor!”_ Balder’s smile is nearly audible when he answers by hollering Thor’s name. The blond grins in return, and leans his elbow on the table. 

“Sif told me you called. I’m in Santa Fe for a conference.” 

_“Fuuck, I hate Santa Fe-”_

“When have you been here!” Thor says playfully, and easily loses himself in banter with his little brother. 

 

It’s not enough. A half an hour later though, Balder has to go for some reason, and Thor is left to his own devices. He wanders around the first floor for a while, decides to go for a run after he’s changed. It takes the edge off, but still he’s not...right, he doesn’t feel the same as he did Friday morning, and he wonders if he will again. It’s stupid, but you always feel that way, don’t you, when something big in your life changes. You can feel it. 

Thor runs for about 45 minutes, showers yet again because he can, gets redressed, watches TV for a while, and just generally mills about the room. It smells faintly of sex, and the sheets are still a mess, so he makes the bed like it’s going to cover up the stains on the sheets, or what happened under them. He feels fucking ridiculous. 

 

Noon rolls around slowly. 

Thor goes to the conference room he was in yesterday, takes a seat, and prepares himself for the monotony. He thinks maybe here he’ll be able to concentrate on something boring like pie charts and how to sell this or that better. Maybe he can concentrate on the woman talking first, her small breasts and unflattering pant-suit. Maybe he can find Tony during the “intermission” where everyone files out for muffins and water, but alas, his friend is nowhere to be found. 

He’s probably still sleeping off _his_ romp from last night, where Thor just can’t shake it. 

So he gives in and thinks about Loki. The way his heels dug into Thor’s thighs, pressed hard like he was spurring on a race horse (it worked). Then his quiet sigh he gave when Thor did something he liked. He was so _quiet._ He didn’t understand, had he not enjoyed it as much as Thor...? 

 _He did,_ the blond assures himself, _he....well he came too, so it obviously wasn’t terrible._ He almost laughs, and bites down on the end of his pen again, _Maybe I’ll go back to that bar and ask--no, the fuck are you thinking? Once wasn’t_ ** _enough?_**

_No._

Thor goes on like this, anxious and conflicted and wanting, for the four hours he’s in the seminar. There are attempts at drawing spirals on the pamphlets he gets, to try and focus on, but he ends up pushing through the paper. Then he tears up the pamphlet discreetly--he just needs to get out of there. He wants to go _home,_ where everything is _safe_ and _Sif_ and awkward breakfasts, the two of them sleeping back-to-back. Where he isn’t questioning his sexuality over one, spectacular, earth-shatteringly-good, encounter. 

Once the meeting is over, Thor gets the fuck out of there, and calls Tony. 

 _“Yyyeello?”_ Tony answers brightly. 

“Stark, it’s Thor.” Thor says briskly, as he walks out of the hotel. 

_“Aaaahhh Mr. Odinson how goes it? How was your night last night, big guy?”_

Thor sighs and shakes his head. 

“Get dinner with me and I’ll tell you.” 

_“Hoho, that good huh? This should be interesting, uuuuh lets see, how bouttt....I’m staying at the Five Graces, I’ll text you the restaurant. I’ve got a hangover to beat the fucking band, so how bout I meet you at the restaurant here at sayyy....six?”_

“I figured as much. Sounds good, see you then.” 

A weird feeling of relief washes over him. If theres anyone he can tell, it’s Tony. Because Tony’s probably done it all, seen it all, and he won’t be surprised. Or at least he can keep a secret. 

Thor goes back to his hotel to watch TV for two hours before going out again. Tony’s hotel was close, and the evening was warm, so Thor decides to walk. All the while his eyes search other passers-by, for a shock of pale skin and black hair, a figure tall and willowy. He chides himself for it, but still he looks as he stuffs his hands into his pockets, and continues on down the sidewalk. 

Tony’s hotel is a swanky place (of course) and he’s waiting for Thor in the lobby half slumped in a chair with sunglasses on. He’s wearing a suit though, but Thor doesn’t think he’s seen Tony in anything else. 

“Rough night?” Thor asks as preamble, and kicks Tony’s foot. The smaller man jolts, and slowly sits up, rubbing his eyes under his sunglasses, “Jesus were you asleep?” 

“A little, yeah,” Tony grunts and stands up, pushing his sunglasses into his hair, “How’s it goin, I definitely slept through today’s seminar so I might as well go home...” He claps Thor on the shoulder, and directs them both down a wide hallway that no doubt leads to the restaurant. 

“Think I will too...” Thor says wistfully, because that sounds like an incredible idea. He booked the hotel for three nights because he wanted to say for a little longer on Sunday but now...now he wants to be back in his own bed. 

“So?” Tony looks up at the blond, as they reach the entry way to the restaurant, “Two please.” He smiles at the girl, and Thor follows both of them to a table before he says anything about what happened last night. 

Tony orders a mango margarita or something rather girly, Thor gets a beer, and before he can even pick up his menu, Tony asks again.

“Lets just get it out of the way now,” He waves a hand dismissively through the air, and smiles a little, “So, talk now, eat in a little while. Go.” Tony nods at Thor, then sips at his orange drink expectantly. Thor laughs lightly, leans back in his chair, and rubs his forehead. He’d been eager to get this off his chest quickly, but. He doesn’t know if he can. 

“Uum....well I met someone-” Thor starts

“I figured.” Tony interrupts. 

“-and.....I uh....”

“Slept with them, apparently. Is that what you’re having trouble articulating, that you cheated on your wife?” Tony surmises, and Thor cocks an eyebrow. 

“Do _you_ want to tell _me_ what happened, or are you going to listen?” He half-laughs, half-snaps. Tony shrugs and purses his lips. 

“Alright, by all means, go on. What was her name, what’d she look like?” The question makes Thor sigh. 

“That’s the thing,” He says, leaning his elbows on the table top. His fingers press into his forehead, like he can squeeze the words from his brain, “It wasn’t.....” He closes his eyes. _Just get it out,_ “It wasn’t a girl.” Instantly his eyes flick up to Tony, waiting for a reaction. It’s slow, Tony just stares at him, intent and uncomprehending. Then he gets it.

“Oh.... _oh,”_ His dark eyebrows arch up, his lips purse and he nods slowly, “Well. Okay, just so we’re clear, you slept with a guy right-”

“Are you fucking kidding me Tony-” Thor nearly shouts, because he doesn’t really want to hear that right now. 

“Alright alright sorry,” He holds up his hands, “Look it’s not the end of the world. Did you...like, enjoy it? Was it good?” Tony asks quietly, sitting forward in his chair. Thor presses his face into his hands, and sighs heavily. If that wasn’t enough of an answer, Thor nods. 

“Yeah,” He continues very, very quietly, “Yeah it was......unbelievable I mean...I’ve never....felt like that...” Thor adds softly, and his mind strays quickly back to the previous night. _Loki is looking up at him reverently, then he arches his neck--_

“It’s not the worst thing to happen to you, y’know,” Tony shrugs, and crosses his arms, “You could have found a tumor or gotten in a car wreck or got mugged or...or....y’know....you just had a really fantastic one night stand with..with another man but hey that’s not _wrong_ or anything. This is how life works, weird shit happens and turns everything on it’s head, trust me I know.” It all sounds well and good, but Thor shakes his head. 

“He wasn’t there this morning, it’s like....it’s like I dreamed it and....I called Sif this morning and just hearing her voice made it...I don’t know I’m...” Thor shook his head and sighed before reaching for his beer. Getting drunk right now probably wasn’t the best idea, but it’d feel better anyway. 

“Can I tell you something? Like, man to man here, since we’re having a let’s-share-secrets-sleepover moment?” Tony leans over the table as the blond across from him guzzles down half of his drink, then nods, “I’ve been with this guy, Steve, for like......six months? And honestly? It’s..I’m-like-I don’t know, but it’s good.” Thor sets his beer down and stares at Tony. 

“Wow,” He says, with a subtle smile, “Steve huh.” 

“Yeah.” Tony nods, his expression almost nostalgic. It’s weird. 

“Monogamy huh.” Thor grins, picking up his beer again. The other man scoffs and rolls his eyes, reaching for his drink. 

“You’re telling me,” He takes a long sip, then sighs, “So. I mean. I’m not like-I don’t know, but clearly you’re not happy with Sif, sorry to say that out loud, but it’s pretty obvious. In your face, even, so maybe you need a change. Maybe you need to question some stuff.” With an easy shrug of his shoulders, so ends Tony’s Lecture On Sexuality. 

Thor doesn’t know what to say. Tony’s probably right but....

“It’s only one time, I’m never going to see him again,” mumbles Thor as he opens his menu, almost hiding behind it. 

 

Dinner with Tony makes him feel a little better, but still when Thor gets back to his hotel room, he wants to leave. So he calls the concierge, lets them know he isn’t staying, and packs up his clothes. It’s a stupid idea because he’s probably going to have to pull over somewhere in Arizona, but he doesn’t want to stay here in this room another night. Not alone. 

He drives all night, gets into Malibu around nine. It’s exhausting, he’s been thinking, driving too hard and his head hurts, but at least he’s home. When he walks in, Sif is sitting at the table eating breakfast. She looks up at him with wide, green eyes. 

“H-hi.” She stutters, and Thor drops his bag on the floor unceremoniously, “You’re early I thought-”

“I was done earlier than I expected. Caught a uh...an early flight,” Thor shrugs and sighs, stepping quickly over to the table where his wife sits. He looks down at her for a moment, at her messy hair and the plaid shirt that...is definitely his. Thor bends down and, placing a hand against the back of her head, kisses her on the cheek, “I’m going to shower, I’m exhausted.” He adds, and leaves the kitchen. 

Sif looks after him, a little dazed, then goes back to her breakfast. 

  



	4. Chapter 4

Home is grounding in a way that Thor needs. The slow roll of his life brings Thor back to a place where everything makes sense, where he’s safe, and doesn’t have to think about Loki or what that night meant. Which doesn’t mean he doesn’t think about it, because he does, quite a lot during the first few days. Eventually though, he tells himself to let it go. He’s not looking at anything else any different, he’s not looking to stray again and he’s not going to try with someone else. It was just a blip on the radar, a white hot blip. 

One afternoon at work, Fandral had asked him how Santa Fe was. Thor shrugged and made a dramatically disgusted face and answered. 

“Boring.” With an equally dramatic eye roll. He wouldn’t dare tell Fandral, even though the man isn’t a saint either, because mostly everyone at the office knows Sif. Especially Thor’s closest “friends”, Volstagg, Hogan, and Fandral. It’s like they’re her friends too. So Thor doesn’t breath a word and life goes on. 

Even Thor Odinson needs secrets. 

 

On Friday morning, he goes to the same coffee shop he frequents almost every other morning. He hurriedly orders a large black coffee with plenty of sugar, and stands aside from the bustle of people to wait. Tucking his hands in the pockets of is slacks, Thor glances around at the cafe and it’s patrons from all walks of life. He looks at people typing dutifully on their laptops, a girl rambling into her phone, other businessmen like him who stand around looking sort of austere. 

As Thor’s blue gaze makes it’s final sweep toward the corner of the coffee shop and catch--

 _No,_ Thor thinks, unbelievingly as his eyes go wide, and convulsively rake over the darkly dressed figure that shouldn’t be at all familiar, _What is he--wh---_ Even his thoughts go incoherent. 

Loki sits there, all quiet black grace, typing studiously on his laptop. His narrow white face is trained on the screen and as placid as the surface of a lake. Thor draws his bottom lip between his teeth and chews on it as he stares, because he’s not really sure if this is real. Maybe he’s having some sort of mental break down. The blond glances over to the bar, where baristas are churning out everyone’s order, then turns his attention back to Loki. 

And it’s definitely him. He takes a sip of his coffee, tucks a lock of black hair behind his ear, and continues typing. 

Before Thor knows what the hell he’s doing, his feet are carrying him toward that table in the corner of the cafe. Absently he thinks he shouldn’t, but something else in him counters that, saying _it’s fine he’s just at some coffee shop in LA it’s only a conversation_ ** _only_** _a conversation._ His breath comes in faster as he side-steps around a man who grumbles at him, and then he’s standing opposite the dark-haired man. Thor doesn’t say anything at first, can’t really because whatever words he thinks of get stuck in his throat. If it’s at all possible, Loki looks better like this, in the light of the morning, surrounded by the thick smell of coffee beans. 

“Loki,” Thor says, before he can stop himself. They’re both surprised, apparently. Loki looks up but does a double take upon seeing Thor. His mouth hangs open just a little, but then it closes, and his eyebrows arch. 

“Hello.” He says simply, probably a little shocked as well. Thor shakes his head. 

“I uh. I saw you and I didn’t--though...I didn’t know you....were-...lived in LA...” Thor explains. He sounds so fucking stupid. Loki’s hands withdraw from his keyboard and move to fold under his chin, supporting it as he looks up at Thor. That slightly mischievous expression is sliding into place, subtle smirk and bright eyes. 

“And vice versa,” He grins, “Fancy that.” 

“So you do live here?” Thor confirms with a raise of his own pale eyebrows, and a sadly hopeful note in his voice. 

“I do. And yourself?” The dark-haired man drawls. Thor nods. 

“Yeah--well. I’m in Malibu but,” Thats irrelevant. 

“ONE LARGE AMERICANO, ONE LARGE AMERICANO!” One of the baristas hollers over the din of the cafe, and Thor looks over. 

“That’s me, I’ll be right back.” He says, because he is _not_ leaving with less than Loki’s phone number. The blond hurriedly twists back through the crowd and swipes his coffee off the counter before nearly spinning on his heel to return. Loki had turned to watch apparently, arms folded on the table. When he returns Thor slumps into the chair across from Loki, setting his work bag down next to his feet. 

They look at one another for a while silently. 

“You look like you’re on your way to work.” Loki says slowly, his face getting a little....serious? Thor nods.

“Yeah, I am actually,” He checks his watch, “But I-....I couldn’t just leave without speaking to you.” The way he says this, god, it sounds _dreamy._ Loki’s lips curl again. 

“That’s very kind of you,” He intones, “Although not entirely wise on your part...?” Slowly that turns into a question, and Thor nods. 

“Probably....but if you wouldn’t..wouldn’t mine I’d,” Thor leans over the table a little. He wants to be close to Loki again, wants to feel the velvet expanse of his white skin, “I’d like to see you again.” The blond summons up all his courage, hubris and confidence he has to put into that statement, and it makes him sound like a man of certainty. 

Loki’s pink tongue flicks out to wet his bottom lip, as a wide, toothy grin breaks out over his face. Something stirs in Thor’s chest at the sight of it, how genuinely please the other man looks. 

“Well...It can’t be just _coincidence_ that we meet here again, so,” He shrugs, ever so nonchalant, “Name the time and the place, Thor Odinson, and I will be there.” Another sharp smile has Thor’s heart whomping away in his chest like helicopter blades. 

“Theres a bar down the street, 1521. Tonight,” Again, his words are pouring out of their own volition before he can stop them, “I get off at six.”

“You’re very rash, aren’t you? Do you do this often?” Loki frowns suddenly as he asks that. The blond across from him shrugs. 

“Do what often?” Cheat on his wife? No, never, “I’m not anymore, no, and normally I wouldn’t do this, but you-...” The words die on his tongue. He can’t admit out loud (just yet) the effect Loki had on him. How he’d been rattled to his core, unable to think of anything else for days. 

“Go on.” Loki grins, resting his head in his hands once more. Thor huffs a laugh and looks him in the eye. 

“I don’t know. I just....” He glances down to the table as he leans over it a bit more, “Somethings different now. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. You, about you.” It’s nothing short of an admission, but Thor can’t care. He just _wants._ Loki nods. 

“I do have that effect, don’t I?” He says, and Thor laughs. Sitting back in his chair Loki sighs, then, and fixes Thor with a gaze that could burn through steel, “Then I suppose it’s fate, isn’t it,” He adds slowly, “I’ll be there tonight, you have my word. Although if you stew in this idea all day, and decide you _don’t_ want to dally again,” Loki reaches into his pocket, and retrieves a pen, “Give me your hand,” His fingers curl, beckoning Thor, who obliges, “Call me, and we can reschedule.” He writes his phone number on Thor’s palm, the tip digging into his skin in harsh strokes, and then it’s done. 

Loki winks, and Thor swallows thickly. He’s afraid that if he stands up, he’s going to have a hard on. 

“Alright,” He says as he stands, grabs his bag and his coffee then looks down. No erection, “I’ll see you then.” Thor gives Loki a nod, and his best smile, before walking to the door. 

 

  
_(Loki watches him go, thinking, ‘What an idiot.’ But he doesn’t really mind. The man may have been a little...rash, but if Loki was being honest, he’d been thinking about that golden, lion of a man all week. It was quite frankly the best lay Loki’s had in years, and he wasn’t going to pass up another opportunity for fantastic sex. Especially not with someone as_   
**  
_handsome_   
**   
_as Thor was, good god, who were his parents? The fact that he was married was merely a....speedbump, perhaps. Of little consequence._   


  
_Unless you’re speeding.)_   


  
__  


Thor goes through his day grinning. He doesn’t particularly know _why_ he’s so excited, but he does recall the giddiness he’d felt on the way back to the hotel in Santa Fe that night. It was exquisite, made his hands shake a bit. Perhaps it was the way Loki had smiled and spoke to him, or how he had agreed so easily. How easy this was going to be, and that in and of itself was thrilling. And really, he was only going out for drinks, the worst part had been done already when he was half drunk, and in another state. So basically, Thor thinks, it didn’t even count! 

  
_Ha!_   


At four, he calls home. Sif isn’t there, predictably, she’s working, and it makes Thor feel a little better. They haven’t changed their answering machine since they moved into that fucking house. Sif tells everyone they keep it for the nostalgia, but they both know it’s so everyone else thinks they’re just as in love today as they were the day they recorded it. 

  
_“Hello, you’ve reached Sif,” She says_   


  
_“And Thor Odinson,” Thor adds, with a laugh in his voice._   


  
_“At home,” Sif says again._   


  
_“Obviously we’re not here right now, so leave a message and we’ll try and get-” They say that both at the same time, and their voices are out of sync. Thor starts laughing._   


  
_“This is ridiculous,” Thor says, still chuckling, and it ends._   


Theres a beep, and Thor sighs. 

“Sif it’s me, look I’m working on a pitch tonight with Hogan and Fandral, so I’ll be home late. I have my cell if you need me. Bye.” Straight forward, to the point and she won’t question it. It surprisingly easy to lie to Sif. 

The hours pass like slugs, as they often do when one is clock-watching. Thor hates it, his palms itch and he just wants to _leave._ Wants to leave and be able to meet his not-quite stranger. He thinks on Loki’s words from earlier, that it’s fate they should meet there again. Now, Thor was never any believer in Fate or Destiny or Karma or any sort of cosmic force, but this surely wasn’t coincidence, was it? Not that he’d ever find an answer to that, and perhaps it was too premature to know that their meeting was anything significant, but still, Thor turned it over in his mind. 

At five, he gets even more anxious, starts tapping his pen to the annoyance of everyone around him, then he switches to bouncing his leg. The last hour passes the slowest, and when it’s done, Thor already has all his paperwork packed up in his bag, and nearly flies from his office. He’s down at his car about two minutes later, and he speeds out of the parking garage. The bar isn’t far, he could have walked, but that would have meant either trying to walk back, or staying the night somewhere else... Which just wasn’t an option, so. 

Thor can almost hear his heart in his ears as he parks his car. For a few seconds he sits in the driver’s seat, hand gripped around his keys and mind reeling with possibilities. He could have Loki again tonight if he wanted to, but maybe he would. It made him feel...new. Pushing his door open, Thor scrambled from his car and looked down the street before jogging across it to the bar’s entrance. There isn’t a line outside like there usually is, but then again it’s a Thursday night and it’s hot from the remnants of the day. Smoothing his hands down his slacks, Thor enters the bar. 

Already the music is unnecessarily loud, but he likes it, whatever it is. It takes him no time at all to direct his attention to the people sitting at the bar, to scan and find exactly who he’s looking for. Loki is perched on a bar stool like a hawk, elegant fingers steepled over a martini glass and his phone in the other hand. Thor licks his lips and winds his way through the gathering crowd, all the while keeping his eyes on Loki. As if he can feel the blond’s eyes, Loki casts a quick look over his shoulder and immediately their gazes catch. It’s ridiculous, the electricity Thor feels. His skin itches and he can’t wait to touch... 

“Hey.” He hollers over the music as he slides between Loki, and the bar stool next to the dark haired man.  Loki’s head turns so he can smile at Thor as the blond shifts onto a bar stool of his own. 

“Thor.” Loki inclines his head in greeting. His thin lips are curled subtly in what Thor is realizing is a very common expression for Loki--that smirk like he knows something you don’t. But Thor promises himself he _will_ find out what it is. 

“Not late am I?” The blond says, absently checking his watch as he flags down the bar tender to order a rum and coke. 

“Not at all, But I got us a table upstairs if you don’t mind.” Loki says, arching his elegant black brows and bringing his tumbler up to his lips. 

“No that’s fine,” Thor smiles--he’d go wherever Loki wanted, the basement, the roof, the fucking alleyway whatever--as his drink was slid across the bar top toward him, “Shall we?” He takes a quick sip and outstretches a hand. Loki takes his glass and stands without a word, Thor following suit. They wove through the crowd to a frosted glass stair case where, at the bottom, Thor discreetly laid his hand at the small of Loki’s back--merely directing him around this guy or that. Loki glanced over his shoulder at Thor, looking up through his dark eyelashes innocently. Or rather quite the opposite, but it still had an effect on the blond. 

The “upstairs” of 1521 was more of a balcony that encircled the whole inside edge of the bar, looking down at the bar and dance floor. It gives him somewhere to look, instead of staring wondrously at Loki as they fall into easy conversation once they were sat at their table. Thor was talking about his work, after the Loki had asked. 

“It’s nice, you know, obviously the pay is beyond--y’know whatever, but I never really....It’s not what I always wanted to do.” He says with a shake of his head, eyes unfocused though they stare down at the throng of people below them. Loki purses his lips and nods, looking unfortunately bored. 

“And what did you always want to do, then?” He asks, taking a sip of his martini. Thor licks his lips. 

“Dunno, I don’t think I ever had a chance to really think about it.” _Where the fuck is this coming from?_ He thinks, panicked as he looks at Loki. That isn’t something he tells anyone. _Anyone._

“Tragic.” The dark-haired man wiggles his eyebrows, and says nothing. 

“What do you do, anyway? You’ve never mentioned it?” Thor asks with a frown when he sits back in his chair, tipping his glass back to get at the last few drops of rum and coke at the bottom among the ice. Loki smiles, it’s different from his other smirks, almost bashful, and his green doe eyes fall to the table top. 

“I’m a writer,” He says, setting down his glass and crossing an arm over his chest, “Self-employed, more or less.” His focus turns up to Thor again for a reaction. The blond nods, impressed. 

“What do you write?” He would have tagged Loki as an aspiring actor or director or photographer or something kitschy and artsy. Writing, Thor supposed, was just as apt. 

“Everything I suppose,” Loki shrugs his narrow shoulders, “The stuff I get paid for is newspaper stuff mostly--reviews, little articles. I’ve written a play, for my own amusement, things like that. Other small things here and there. I used to write obituaries for the Times.” That mischievous grin is back again, and Thor chuckles. 

“That’s fitting.” He replies, and Loki opens his mouth in mock offense. 

“I did the dead a great service, you know, they were all very wordy and sophisticated.” That too makes Thor laugh....How long has it been since he’d...felt like this...

“I don’t doubt it,” the blond chuckles as a waitress walks by, and he flags her down to order more drinks. 

 

They drink, and talk, then drink, and drink more. It’s beautifully hazy. They have to shout over the music, leaning close over the table. More than he concentrates on words, Thor watches the way Loki’s mouth moves when he talks. The way his smiles change so fluidly, how he can smirk timidly one moment, and look like a completely devious little minx the next. Thor wants to push the drinks off the table, bend Loki over it and fuck him till he couldn’t breath. And for a while that’s all he thought about. It was probably obvious, Thor thought; he probably kept licking or biting his lips or something equally aroused-looking. Loki was as cool headed as ever though, sipping dirty martini after dirty martini. 

Thor didn’t really remember how, but at some point Loki was dragging him downstairs again by his tie, and it was the single sexiest thing the blond had ever seen. His mouth went dry, and he let Loki lead him along, down the stairs again. 

“You don’t dance, do you?” Loki hollers, and the statement makes Thor laugh. 

“The last time I danced was at my fucking wedding!” He says over Loki’s shoulder, and the dark haired man rolls his eyes. 

“How did I know you were going to say that?” Loki mumbles as he drags Thor through the people who throb like the bass, then he stops abruptly to turn on the blond. 

“What? It’s true!” Thor insists as Loki presses close, one arm slung around the blond’s shoulders. He’s so close they’re nearly nose to nose. 

“Oh I wasn’t arguing that,” Loki purrs, and Thor can’t even remember what they were talking about because Loki’s hips are pushed up against his, swaying gently. Thor doesn’t know where to put his hands really, so he settles for slinging one arm around Loki, just under his ribs and holding him closer, “There, not so bad is it?” Loki tips his head up and all but speaks against the blond’s lips. Thor shakes his head, placing his other hand at Loki’s hip. 

They move slowly, gradually for what feels like hours. All Thor could see was Loki, the sweep of his thick eyelashes, the elegant slant of his nose, and the bow of his lips in the bar’s low light. His fingers dig lightly into Loki’s soft shirt as their bodies shifted against one another in a slow-building friction. Loki brushed his long, cool fingers through the hair at the nape of Thor’s neck now and then, teasing, and before the blond could stop himself, he was letting himself lean in until his lips met Loki’s. 

It was slow, just like the rest of the night had been. Loki held on to Thor a little tighter as he opened his mouth, slow and undemanding as ever. His tongue flicks out against Thor’s bottom lip, quick and wet, but the blond chases it with his own, into Loki’s mouth. He tastes like vodka and gin, but it’s good. Thor’s tongue presses in against Loki’s insistently, and they tangle together between their lips, a back and forth dance that’s as natural (maybe even more natural) as riding a bike. Thor sighs, his feet stilling their gentle sway as he pulled the slighter man against him. It was so warm, _hot_ between them, even, and Thor....all of his blood is rushing south. He wants to go, wants to pull Loki out the door....

Loki breaks the kiss. 

“Shall we?” He asks, leaning his forehead against Thor’s, his bare skin a point that the blond can concentrate on, warm and soft. 

“I can’t I-” Thor sighs, and tries to think for a moment. It’s probably late already, and he can always think of things to tell Sif....but he doesn’t want to be sneaking in the house at 3 AM, thats all too obvious, “I can’t tonight but--god _dammit do I want to.”_ He growls, stealing a quick, and rather dirty kiss. Loki hums into it, the vibrations tickling Thor’s lips, before he pulls away. 

“Come on. Dark corners darling.” He murmurs, head tipping back, and his voice sounds like honey again, sweet and sticky. Thor sighs as he feels Loki’s hand trail down his arm, and lace their fingers. Yet again he’s letting the dark-haired man pull him through and around other couples until they’re in one of the only secluded corners of the bark, almost completely dark if not for the residual light. Loki all but shoves Thor into an unoccupied booth and slides in next to him. 

“Sit back,” All too quickly Loki sounds breathless, long-fingered hands pressing against the blond’s chest, “just a little more--there.” He pants and stretches across Thor’s slightly slouched torso to kiss him again hurriedly. Theres a quick lap of tongue and as he pulls away, Loki bites down on Thor’s plump bottom lip to make him groan quietly. He’s sitting with his back to the corner of the booth, one leg dangling off the bench and the other up on the seat, and between them Loki kneels. 

Before Thor can ask or even begin to guess at what the dark haired _siren_ will do, his nimble white hands are working the buckle, button and fly of Thor’s slacks. He sighs, feeling his cock throb insistently, because, well, if Loki is undoing his pants, theres a good chance that this is going to be awesome. And of course it is, Loki free’s Thor’s stiffening length and instantly takes it into his mouth like he’s hungry for it. He sucks hard and Thor’s head thumps back against the wall so hard it hurts, and thankfully the moan of satisfaction is muffled to anyone but the two of them. 

Loki sucks him off hard and fast, mouth and hands working in tandem to a rapid rhythm. He himself uses his free hand to touch himself, and it’s quite possible the hottest thing Thor’s ever seen--Loki’s mouth full of his cock, lips stretched, red, wet with saliva and pre-come, and his hands down his pants. At one point his eyes squeeze closed and he moans around Thor, and oh _god,_ it takes the blond even closer to the edge. Thor’s hands find Loki’s hair and pull gently, more guiding than demanding. He looks out into the crowd, to where people could see if only they peeked over the table, and it thrills him to no end. 

Well, actually it does. That thought trips his orgasm, and as Loki’s mouth slides over him nearly all the way, Thor comes against the back of the other man’s throat, groaning loudly and fisting a hand in Loki’s hair. He whimpers and starts swallowing convulsively, but the hand he’s using to get himself off has slowed, so Thor guessed he too had finished. The blond slumps back into the booth, panting and uncaring as he watches Loki slowly pull away. His mouth is a mess, saliva and come smeared around the edges of his lips, and as he draws his lips away, a pearly thread strings between his chin and Thor’s cock. It makes the blond sigh again, and then it breaks, falling against Loki’s chin. 

His eyes flick up to Thor, dark, perilous, and a little wet from choking just a little, as he sits up. 

“Loki I-...” Thor tries to say something, anything but it doesn’t work, nor does it matter. Loki crawls over the few inches of space between them and leans over Thor’s upper-half to give him an absolutely filthy kiss. Whatever is left on Loki’s lips smears against the blond’s, sticky-warm against his stubbled chin and upper lip. The taste is salty, bitter, but Thor can’t find it in himself to care. 

It’s a sentiment Thor finds himself thinking a lot when it comes to Loki. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates may be a little slower as I write, and it's the holidays so I have a bit else to do. After that they should be regular :) also this chapter is a little short.

He can’t find it in himself to care for about four months. 

Thor cares about some things, like being careful, carefully lying, but other things don’t matter as much. When Sif asks him if he started wearing new cologne one evening when he gets home from an especially chaste romp with Loki, it makes him vaguely nervous. He answers yes, and they go on getting ready for bed. After that, he starts taking showers before he goes home. 

A few days after the bar incident, they go to Loki’s small apartment on the skirts of downtown LA, and fall into bed, of course. It’s the first time they fuck since Santa Fe, and Thor never wants it to end. Loki whimpers into the bedsheets the whole time, face pressed against them as Thor thrusts into him. It’s not hard for either man to lose them self to this, and that’s exactly what Thor does, every snap of his hips a sign of just how far gone he is. A lot changes that night, especially in Thor. He acknowledges this is something he  can’t escape, no matter how hard he tries. And he doesn’t mind that Loki’s claws are in him, he gives in to it. Welcomes it. 

They lay together afterward in the heat of Loki’s bedroom, sweat beaded on their bodies, and hair stuck to the backs of their necks. Loki asks suddenly, once they’ve caught their breath, if Thor really wants to do this. He doesn’t even have to think, before he turns his head on the pillow to look at Loki, all that black hair splayed out like some sort of deep sea creature, and answers yes. 

Thor sees Loki almost every night, when he can manage it after work. He tells Sif his schedule has changed, and she just mumbles an affirmative. Sometimes Thor wonders if she ever notices the little scratches Loki leaves across his back, the shade of a bruise made by the other man’s mouth over his hip. It’s a wonder that she says nothing, and sometimes Thor wishes she would just to shatter whatever brittle, stagnant thing they have here is. He would confess everything if she would simply ask. But she said nothing, believed Thor’s lies, and guilt was but an afterthought for the blond. 

But he did feel it, once in a great while. It would strike him when he looked at Loki, and when that feeling rose in his chest....Thor recognized it as some sort of affection, one he no longer felt for Sif. It was the sort that makes you miss a person, makes you _ache_ to see them and hurt to leave them. All of those things applied to Loki, as well, in an odd sort of way. Instead of going through a monotonous work day to merely go home, eat dinner, watch TV, do paperwork then go to bed, Thor felt he had something to look forward to. And oh did he look forward to those smoldering nights with Loki. 

Leaving the dark haired man was hard. After routinely having sex, and maybe a glass or two of wine Thor would kiss Loki, lazy and deep and sensuous, savoring every second, every lingering taste. Then Loki would look at him with those round green eyes, and Thor would force himself to go. It was hard, but necessary, and Loki never seemed any worse for wear. He merely smiled, and held the door for Thor. They were almost always in contact in some way after so long, text messages, covert phone calls in the office. It wasn’t the same as the real thing, but kept them satisfied. 

 

Only in November did Thor wonder if he was in over his head. 

He calls off work on a Thursday after running into Loki at his usual coffee shop. The opportunity is just right, and the drive back to Loki’s apartment is exciting. They grin at each other like idiots, and once they’re inside, they can’t keep their hands off of each other; they spend most of the morning fucking, the afternoon sleeping, and the evening lazing around in Loki’s bed. It’s the most amount of time they’ve spent together, technically, and Thor wouldn’t have traded it for the world. He revels in the fact that he can simply lay in bed with Loki tucked up against his side, the breeze ghosting in the window as they talk aimlessly. 

“Do you have plans for Thanksgiving?” Thor asks curiously. Loki never mentions anything about his family, or anything about his past at all. When Thor had asked him where he was from, Loki simply replied ‘ _all over’_ , shrugged, and smiled. 

“Why?” Loki replies in a droll tone, “Would you like me to come over? Dinner with the family?” He cocks an eyebrow and shifts so he can rest his chin against Thor’s naked chest. Neither of them have bothered getting dressed all day. The blond gives his lover a stern look, and Loki grins as he presses a kiss to the skin of Thor’s pectoral, “No, darling, I have no plans.” He sighs and rolls away from Thor, stretching wide, back arching like a cat which makes the sheets fall away from his hips. Theres a neat thicket of black hair at the base of his long, flaccid cock, and Thor’s eyes are immediately drawn there for a moment. 

“I’ll try and come see you.” He says, completely unsure of how that will work, if it would at all, but he wants to. Loki snorts and laughs as he turns onto his side, which Thor also does. 

“Why? Worried about little old me spending the holiday’s alone?” The humor slowly drains from that statement, but still Loki smirks at Thor. The blond reaches out to thread his thick fingers through Loki’s raven-black hair, and shifts a bit closer. 

“No, not worried. Just...I don’t have to, I suppose, I guess I’d...” He stops himself, because he feels like if he continues, he’ll make a fool of himself. Loki isn’t a sentimental creature, nor is he very... _lovey dovey,_ if you will. He’s more aloof than anything, probably kept that way out of some sense of self preservation. Thor thinks maybe it’s wise, that he should have done the same instead of letting himself fall helplessly for Loki. 

“Don’t trouble yourself,” Loki sighs, leaning forward to kiss Thor languidly, “Leaving would be cumbersome, and I’ve got an article due around that time, so you needn’t bother. Give me a call and I’ll be happy.” He smiles again, his dexterous fingers stroking at Thor’s jaw affectionately. 

“I wish you could be there,” Thor murmurs, his eyes unfocused as he looks at Loki, “Meet my brother Balder. You’d love him-”

“Stop.” Loki snaps, and it jars the blond out of what ever reverie he had slipped into. 

“What?” Thor asks. His face bends into an irritated frown. 

“Don’t say things like that,” Loki’s eyes are wide and his face stern, “What we have here cannot--it isn’t.....You know very well what I mean, Thor.” He takes his hand back as well. Thor doesn’t, though, he merely moves his, slides his arm around the smaller man’s shoulders. 

“I’m saying _I wish._ I can wish all I want.” Thor says flippantly, his brow furrowing gently. Loki raises his eyebrows as his mouth purses in a contrary expression, but stays rather silent. 

“But not out loud, I can’t bear to hear it.” Loki mutters quickly, and Thor wonders what Loki means by that. He doesn’t dare ask (at first) because he knows how Loki can be, but eventually it bothers him enough that he has to open his mouth again. 

“Why?” Thor mumurs, and rubs his thumb soothingly over the dip between Loki’s shoulder blades. The dark haired man shifts uncomfortably, eyes moving toward the ceiling, over Thor’s shoulder. Pointedly _not_ at Thor. Loki is quiet for too long. 

“I just don’t like it,” His voice is just barely above a whisper, “Don’t like that you have this whole other life outside of me that I can’t be a part of.” Thor knows it’s a very rare admission for Loki to give--he _never_ says anything to betray his feelings, and now all of a sudden there it is. Laid out very bare for Thor to see. Loki’s jaw clenches tight, and he refuses to look at the blond. 

“Loki...” Thor sighs and shifts closer to kiss Loki softly, as if he can apologize that way. He tries, anyway, his lips gently against Loki’s, though Thor’s arm tightens around his middle. Of course the slighter man ducks his head, effectively breaking the kiss and hiding his face from Thor. 

“It’s stupid, don’t dwell on it.” Loki says quietly, his fingers idly brushing against the blond’s neck. 

“No it’s not--it’s my fault, anyway, but--...” Thor can’t help but press a kiss to Loki’s forehead. In that one sentence, Loki brought down everything that had been looming over their heads for about five months; the truth about what was _really_ going on here. They’d been ignoring it thus far, ignoring the feelings that had fueled this whole thing for so long, “I’m sorry.” Thor murmurs against Loki’s skin, and bestows another kiss to his brow. The dark haired man shakes his head fervently against the pillow. 

“Don’t be, it’s quite alright I-..I knew. I’m perfectly aware of what is and what can’t be.” He says, and  suddenly he sounds together again, stony facade in place once more. Loki finally meets Thor’s gaze then, his emerald eyes cool, if not a bit distant. For a while Thor contemplates that look on Loki’s face, the way he generally acts, so aloof and collected, not a figurative hair out of place. Sleeping with a married man doesn’t seem to ruffle his feathers one bit. 

“Do you want to stop?” Thor asks, and it comes out incredibly unsure, quiet. Loki actually laughs brightly, and grins at Thor. 

“God no,” He says and, laying his hands against Thor’s shoulders, pushes the blond onto his back so he can crawl over him. Loki straddles Thor’s waist, their bare skin pressed together from hip to chest, “No I quite enjoy your..” Loki wiggles his hips, pressing his soft cock against Thor’s to punctuate his words, “Company.” He stretches his arms up to rest his elbows above Thor’s shoulders, and gently cards his fingers through the other man’s blond hair. 

“Is that all...” Thor mumbles, wrapping his heavy arms around Loki’s back to keep him firmly in place. The dark haired man grins and wriggles again, stirring arousal in them both. 

“A few other things as well I suppose.” He grins, leaning in to slant their mouths together in an invasive kiss. 

 

Thor goes home that night exhausted and feeling pretty awful. Loki may have acted like he didn’t care--he all but brushed it off when Thor brought it up again when he left--but it was obvious that he was just as invested as Thor was. That he _cared,_ that it wasn’t just....

It wasn’t just sex anymore. 

 

_(That night Loki lays in bed, pillow clutched tight to his chest as he stared at the dark screen of his phone, waiting for anything from Thor. It’s not that....not that he misses his lover, no, certainly not....he hadn’t been squirming in bed since Thor left, the sheets smelling of him, and his touch still so very familiar across Loki’s back. No, it certainly isn’t that at all.....)_

 

 

The next morning when Thor steps into the elevator, Sif’s brother Heimdall is there. Just, there. Heimdall is that terrifying big brother that every guy has nightmares about their girlfriend having. Even though Thor is 28 now, Heimdall is still the most intimidating guy he’s ever met, aside from his father. 

“Good morning Thor.” He says in his deep monotone as he steps into the elevator, standing next to Thor who shifts uncomfortably. 

“Morning.” The blond mumbles, and leans forward to press the button to their floor. 

“Feeling better?” Heimdall asks loftily. He looks at Thor, but Thor doesn’t look at him. 

“Yeah.” The blond smiles and quickly glances to his right where the man stands. 

“Working those longer days must wear on you,” continues Heimdall, causing Thor to actually look at him now, in surprise, “Although I always see you leave at six. Yet Sif said...” 

“I duck out for dinner,” He says quickly, because god dammit, does Heimdall see everything? Does he just _watch_ Thor, waiting for him to slip up? It’s a shit excuse, but what else is he going to say? _I’m actually having an affair. On your sister. With another man._

Heimdall says nothing else to refute that, and they part ways on their floor. 

  



	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a little porn up front and thanksgiving.

_[November 24th,10:34 AM]_

_Do you think of me when you touch yourself? On days you can’t see me?_

Thor shakes his head at the text message, a lecherous smirk curling the corners of his lips subtly. He licks his lips, glances over into the kitchen to see if Sif is paying attention, then taps out a reply. 

_yes. stupid question. do you?_

He slips his phone in his pocket and jogs down the remainder of the stairs and into the entryway of the house. The smell of Thanksgiving fills the house, cooking turkey and cinnamon and the cider that Sif is slicing oranges into. 

“Smells great,” The blond says as he kisses his wife’s cheek, and looks about the kitchen, “Anything I can do?” A quick canvas of the kitchen tells him there isn’t much else to do just yet, but he offers anyway. 

“Get me the cloves from the spice rack.” Sif answers, but doesn’t look up from her oranges. Thor does as she says, gazing through the spice rack (when did they get _that_ and why the hell--) and plucked the bottle from it’s holder. He placed it next to the pitcher of cider. 

“Thank you,” Sif says as she glances up at him, “You could clean off the dining room table. Put on the table cloth, set the places and stuff?” Her dark eyebrows arch, and Thor nods. 

“Alright,” he replies easily, and goes to get their good china. 

In the solitude of the dining room, he looks at his phone again. 

_Of course._

Simple. Teasing. Thor bites. 

_tell me what you do._

He pockets his phone and spreads the table cloth out over their long dinner table. Balder flew in a day ago and was staying with their parents, and everyone was coming to Thor and Sif’s for Thanksgiving dinner. That was usually their tradition, and Thor had always really enjoyed it. Even if he didn’t have the happiest marriage, today was still nice. 

Although this Thanksgiving was a little different. 

“Oh, Sif?” Thor called as he began to lay out the placemats. 

“What!” She hollered back. 

“I may have to go in to work later, I forgot to sign some papers for this press release, it’s my fault really, I totally forgot-”

“That’s fine! Just as long as you don’t leave me alone with your parents!” She yells, even with a bit of humor, and Thor smiles. 

“Of course not, I think they’re going to go Vill’s for a bit afterward anyway.” He returns, to which Sif is silent. In his back pocket, his phone vibrates quietly. After setting down a plate, Thor plucks if from his slacks. There are a few text messages from Loki. 

_I stroke myself, get hard._

Thor’s chest tightens a little, and he looks up to the doorway of the dining room, just to check. He opens the next message. 

_I slick up my fingers and fuck myself with them. I use all four and pretend it’s you._

“God damn.” The blond breaths, opens the next one. 

_Sometimes I use toys instead of my fingers._

The next

_One is thick, long, almost bigger than you._

And the next

_The other is a vibrator, it’s thin and curved to hit all the right places._

Even when Thor thinks that’s it, there’s another waiting for him. But he waits, all his blood rushing dangerously. Curiosity overcomes him though, and he opens the next message. 

_I’ll use that one later before I see you. I’ll be ready for you. Open and wet and ready to take your cock._

“Fuck...” Thor sighs again, runs a hand down his face, then palms his cock through his pants. He’s a little hard, but nothing embarrassing or worth hiding. He wants to call Loki and tell him just want those descriptions are doing to him, the imagery they project and the fact that Thor is going to be picturing Loki with four fingers knuckle-deep in his asshole, moaning and writhing and _arching_ the way Thor knows he does. Then he sees Loki on the bed, face down and ass up ass he pushes a dildo inside himself. 

It’s way too much. 

_you drive me nuts. I’m not going to be able to think of anything but fucking you senseless while I’m having dinner with my father._

With a wicked grin, Thor his send, knowing that that statement with compliment Loki’s ego effortlessly. Loki likes to know that Thor’s thinking of him, especially when he’s thinking about fucking him. 

_I know you will, darling. A little something to get you through the afternoon._

Thor’s phone vibrates again, notifying him that he’s received-- _oh god--_ a picture. It’s of Loki, obviously--more specifically of his _cock,_ hard and flushed with arousal, the tip rosy and wet. One of his spindly hands his reaching down behind his sac, no doubt pressing into his hole, but that much isn’t visible. Thor stares for a while, his breath coming in ragged. He doesn’t know how to reply. 

Initially. 

Hurriedly Thor sets the table, the tasteful little centerpiece in the middle of it all, then yells at Sif that he’s done and he’ll be back down in a second. Then he runs up the stairs, his footfalls thundering through the house, and dashes into their room. He’s definitely harder now, and as he stumbles to the bathroom, he pulls his phone from his pocket once more to slam it on the marble counter top. Thor closes the door quietly, locks it, and begins unbuckling his belt. He takes off his slacks carefully and hands them on the towel rack, not wanting to make a total mess of himself. 

The blond picks up his phone, then looks at the picture for a few seconds longer before dialing Loki’s number. 

 _“Hello?”_ Loki asks innocently, _like he doesn’t know_. Thor pushes his grey cashmere sweater up his stomach, and reaches into his briefs. 

“Did you come yet?” Thor’s voice is rough, just above a whisper as he frees his half-hard cock from his underwear, and begins to stroke and squeeze himself. 

 _“Of course not. You think I wouldn’t wait?”_ Loki breathes, sounding far less put together than Thor had expected. 

“I should have guessed,” Thor laughs breathlessly and rolls the head of his cock in his palm, “You’re going to try and kill me...” He adds, head hanging and eyes closing as he begins to stroke himself faster. 

 _“Never,”_ Loki sighs, a little moan catching in his throat, and Thor can only imagine what he’s doing. 

“Speak to me.” Thor pleads, needing to hear Loki’s voice more than what pleasure he’s imparting on himself. 

 _“What would you like me to say?”_ Loki moans, _“That I need you, haven’t stopped thinking of you. A-ah. I’ve been in bed all morning, doing this and thinking of you. I fear I’ll tire before you see me.”_ It makes Thor laugh; even if he were too tired Loki would throw himself into the act. He always did. 

“Then stop,” He pants, mouth hanging open as he pumps himself harder, his hand slicked now as anxious little beads of pre-cum roll from the tip of his cock, “Wait-”

 _“And miss hearing you come? No I think not. Where are you?”_ It’s more cold and grounded than Thor expects, but still it sounds lovely. Every word, even if it’s a lie, poison even, sounds good coming from Loki’s lips. 

“The bathroom,” Thor laughs humorlessly, his hand slowing, “Tell me what you’re doing. Please. I need to hear you.” He whispers, tilting his face toward his phone, as if it would make him any closer to Loki. 

 _“Riding my fingers, just like I told you-”_ His voice cuts off for a desperate little whine, a sound Thor craves,  _“It’s not nearly enough but...mmm...Thooor...”_ He moans the blond’s name, long and low, making Thor sigh. 

“Loki...” He whispers, over come with images again. 

 _“I’m close....but I wish it was you filling me...theres nothing like it, darling, no equal. I fear you’ve ruined me,”_ Loki says with a low chuckle, and Thor can think of no reply, too lost in the dull pleasure of his own hand. It’s not Loki’s, isn’t his mouth or hands or hole, but still Loki is there in some capacity. 

Thor groans. 

 _“Oh I love that sound...”_ Thor can hear the smile in his voice, _“I can hear how close you are, Thor, how much you want to come for me.”_ Again the blond moans, eyes screwing shut as his groin begins to tighten in a familiar way. He rues that this’ll be over so quickly. 

 _“Aa-ah, Thor, I’m-...oh yes, yes, Thor,”_ Loki groans, and Thor can see behind his eyelids the bow and arch of Loki’s back as he comes over his fist, _“Oh Thor...Thor......hurry.”_

He doesn’t really have to, his orgasm already there, coming on so easily at the sound of Loki’s voice. Thor moans, nearly drops his phone as he slumps against the wall. 

 _“That’s my good boy.”_ Loki coos as Thor attempts to gather himself, catching his breath as he strokes himself through the aftershocks. For a while, the blond simply leaned against the wall and the counter, breathing heavily. 

“God dammit Loki...” Thor mutters finally as he straightens up, and hits the hot water knob on the sink. Loki chuckles, low and silky, because he knows what he does to Thor. 

 _“Well darling that was lovely. I’ll see you in a few hours,”_ and before Thor can say anything, the line goes dead. He curses again and tosses his phone on the counter, then rinses his hand. 

 

Thor cleans up, pulls his slacks back on and tromps down to the kitchen in time to help Sif mash potatoes and put some rolls in the oven. They work together in the kitchen in amenable silence, or easy, nonsensical conversation. It’s strange really; ever since he began seeing Loki, he’d been more affectionate with her. He didn’t know why, maybe it just...bubbled over, but when he’d come home, he’d kiss her on the cheek, ask her how her day was. It may have made him even more selfish, to seemingly want to have a wife then, and a lover, but Thor wasn’t sure. 

The last thing he wanted was to hurt Sif. That was the honest to gods truth, and if he had had it this way, their marriage would end without her knowing about Loki (which was ridiculous, wishful thinking.) He’d just rather get through this...with as few broken hearts as possible. Also wishful thinking. 

At noon, Thor’s parents arrived with Balder in tow. The brothers embraced happily, as Sif hugged Frigga and Odin briskly. Thor’s parents had always liked Sif, even if they more or less eloped. Once all the greetings were said and done, everyone shuffled into the dining room as Sif began to set things out on the table where the others gathered around. Odin sliced the turkey from the head of the table, beginning the meal. 

Being with his family made Thor content, where he had been anxious that morning. For Loki, or just the rest of the day in general, but seeing and being able to joke with his younger brother was a much needed relief. He didn’t often realize how much he missed Balder until the bright young man was at home, and they were able to do things the way they used to, like toss a football around the yard or go to Lakers games. Odin, Thor saw far more of, nearly every day at work, and his mother he saw here and there. She was like any mother, though, always missing her two sons no matter what. 

Over the meal they discussed a whole myriad of things, from the company, to Balder’s hatred of cold weather. An awkward moment came and passed when Frigga asked Sif and Thor when they were going to give her a grandbaby (which was something she asked on a regular basis when the three of them were in the same room.) Thor sputtered something non-sensical, and Sif cooly explained that neither of them had time for a child. That, thankfully, was mostly true. And the fact that they hadn’t had sex in a few months. There was the precursory time in the beginning of September, when it just sort of happened and Thor had felt so fucking guilty afterward he could hardly look at Sif. 

Also there was the bit about the fact that Thor was fucking someone else, but he wasn’t going to tell his mom that...

Once they finished the meal, the five of them retreated into the living room to watch some football and the dog show, at Sif’s insistence. Thor falls asleep a little bit at one point, and wakes up when Sif shakes him.  It’s about 4:30, and not long after his family leaves. That in and of itself makes him anxious again. He helps his wife clean up all the food, clear the table, put away left overs and wash some dishes. When all of that is said and done, he reminds Sif he has to stop into work, and she just nods complacently. Thor kisses her on the cheek and grabs his keys. 

 

The door to Loki’s apartment is open. Thor ducks his head in first just in case, then pushes the door back and steps in. 

“Loki?” He calls as he paces forward into the little entry way. There’s music, very quiet and soft in the otherwise silence of the rest of the apartment, so Thor knows that Loki is here, and nothing is especially amiss. He drops his keys on the table, toes off his shoes (because Loki has a strict no shoes rule further than the kitchen) and traipses over to the hall leading to Loki’s bedroom. 

That’s where Loki is, of course, stretched out on his messy bed. His feet are outstretched in front of him and he’s nearly bent in half, head hung and those long, slender fingers hooking over his toes. Thor stands in the doorway, listens to Loki hum along to whatever song is playing--it’s a woman, slow and old-sounding, but it’s nice. 

“Have you been in bed _all_ day?” Thor asks with a fond smile as he moves into the bedroom. Loki gradually sits up from his stretch, lazy smile on his face as he rests his elbows on his knees. 

“No, I went out actually. I just woke up from a little nap.” He purrs, as Thor comes to stand next to the bed. They look at each other for a few silent moments, eyes soft; both pair. 

“Where’d you go?” The blond asks quietly, reaching out to play idly with a strand of Loki’s long black hair. It’s curling at the ends, like it often does after they have sex. Loki leans into the touch, pushing up into Thor’s hand like a cat as his eyes close. 

“Lunch with a friend,” He murmurs, and opens his eyes again, “Come here.” The uncharacteristically gentle smile that had graced his thin lips disappears slowly as he watches Thor sit down on the bed next to him. 

“Mmm,” Thor hums, letting his hand fall till his arm is draped across Loki’s back. The dark haired man blinks his still-sleepy green eyes and rests his chin in his hand. 

“I’m glad you came.” His voice is just above a whisper, and the sentiment makes Thor smile. He can’t really help himself anymore, so he leans in to kiss Loki softly. It isn’t chaste for long, Loki’s eager tongue parting Thor’s lips wetly, and the blond grants him access happily. Without another word Thor eases them back, down to the soft confines of Loki’s mattress, and kisses him like he has all the time in the world. They’ll get around to the rest eventually. 

Just as that kiss goes, so does their lovemaking. Thor takes his sweet time because he can, he needs to, and watching Loki come apart for those long, agonized minutes is well worth it. They spend well over an hour that way, on the brink, yet stopping each time until they’re both trembling with restraint. Loki fists the sheets in his hands and sobs muffled demands into his pillow before finally Thor lets him cum. After, they lay close, silent as they always are in those moments. The radio still plays, and Thor wishes with every ounce of his being that he could stay till morning. He’d give anything to wake up to Loki. 

Who is worrying a mark into Thor’s shoulder with tongue and teeth and suction, which isn’t something he does. Loki knows. 

“What are you doing?” Thor asks sleepily, and it makes Loki stop, if but for a moment. The flat of his tongue laves over the raw, bruising mark, then Loki presses his lips against it as if to soothe. 

“I want to see myself on you.” He murmurs. His fingers wander over Thor’s chest, ghosting here and there, teasing his nipples to hardness idly. 

“And who else is going to see that?” Thor mutters in return. Really, he doesn’t mean it as sharply as it sounds. Loki stills instantly, mouth still bowed against the blond’s shoulder, though his green eyes flick up to Thor’s face. Slowly he sits up, expression hardening and altogether withdrawing as he rests on his elbow and stares at his lover. 

“What is that supposed to mean?” He asks, his upper lip curling subtly in distaste. Thor’s eyes snap open and he looks over at Loki, knowing what he just said was probably a mistake. 

“Loki I didn’t...” He sighs. It’s probably in vain, “Loki you know if someone sees.” 

“Oh _yes_ god forbid your wife question you a little,” He hisses, tossing the sheets away from his body in a flurry, “Paint me black and blue all you _fucking_ want, but if _I-”_ He pulls on a pair of sweats in a flurry, and Thor sits up. 

“Jesus Loki, I’m sorry, don’t-you’re-” 

“I’m _what?”_ Loki snaps, nearly yelling. 

“Blowing this out of proportion I didn’t m-” The blond watches Loki’s eyes go wide, and his mouth fall open. 

“No of course you didn’t _mean it._ ” The other man hisses, and storms out of the room. With a sigh Thor promptly gets out of bed and begins to dress as quickly as he can. Loki probably isn’t going anywhere, but Thor can’t be sure. 

As he walks out into the rest of the apartment, the blond finishes buttoning his white shirt that’s now wrinkled from laying on the floor. 

“Loki,” He sighs, and watches Loki whirl about his kitchen. Thor has no idea what he’s doing, but it’s obviously something to distract himself from Thor, “Come on, come here please. I didn’t....That came out wrong.” 

“No, no, it’s merely the truth, Thor, stop _apologizing,_ I understand,” He spits again, but sounds...he sounds like the calm before the storm, “You didn’t mean to say it, but you said it anyway, so it doesn’t matter. You should leave.” 

“No,” Thor says immediately, “I just don’t want her to find out like this, Loki, otherwise I don’t care.” 

He doesn’t see it, but theres a crash in the kitchen that rings distinctly of broken glass. 

“Oh _yes,_ her, always HER. _I can’t stay because of_ ** _HER_** _!”_ Loki roars, and Thor steps into the entryway of the kitchen, “What of _ME?_ Do you ever spare a fucking thought for _ME,_ THOR?!” When he takes a step forward, glass crunches under his feet and it makes Thor cringe. 

“Loki-” He pleads, but it’s to no avail. 

“Shut up! Get out, I’m finished being your kept woman. Get out,” Loki is quieter, but his voice is still as cold and outraged. Thor can’t think of anything to say, just gawks like an idiot at Loki, “I SAID GET OUT!” He screams, making the blond flinch. Remaining silent Thor nods and takes a step back toward the table to grab his keys. He stills with them in his hand, eyes finding Loki’s again, but they still scream at him. 

Thor leaves without another word. 

 

_(Loki fights back tears as he plucks glass shards from his bare feet on the bathroom floor. He isn’t really even that mad about Thor, he’s mad at himself. Angry that he’d be so jealous of a woman he’d never met. Furious that he’d let himself feel something so immense for someone who could never return it. It was stupid, careless. He wanted to erase his feelings for Thor the way he washed the taste of him out of his mouth.)_

__

__

When Thor gets home, he’s not exactly angry, but he’s sure as shit not happy either. He quickly showers, tosses his clothes that still smell like Loki in the laundry bin, and wanders down to the kitchen. Sif is watching TV still in the living room, and after getting a beer, Thor joins her. In somewhat of an odd turn, she slides over the couch and cuddles against his side. He doesn’t really mind, just slings a precursory arm over her shoulder, then swills his beer as he stares blankly at the T.V. screen. 

“You okay?” Sif murmurs eventually, after an unusually long period of silence from Thor. He takes a sip of his beer, and sighs. 

“Yeah,” is his vague, mumbled reply, “Deal with Niflheim is a pain.” He keeps his eyes on the T.V. because if he looks at Sif, he’s afraid everything is just going to spill out. 

_I don’t want to hurt either of you, fuck, I’m sorry I didn’t mean it, didn’t mean to do this but he’s-he’s perfect and I can’t stop._

“Oh,” Sif hums, tightening her arm around Thor’s waist, “They need to give you a break, you’ve been working your ass off.” Thor almost wants to roll his eyes. 

“No it’s fine,” The blond mumbles, “Just tired.” That, at least, was the truth. Although he even feels guilty being tired when really, he hasn’t done anything. Well, he and Loki--still. The guilt is rightfully placed. 

“Do you want to go to bed?” Sif asks, sitting up a little, and finally Thor looks at her. 

“No not just yet.” But he looks away quickly, and Sif lays her head on his stomach again. Theres a pause, signaling that _that_ conversation is over, but then Sif sighs again, squeezing Thor tighter. 

“I had a really good day today.” She says softly, and Thor squeezes his eyes shut. 

He feels fucking terrible. 

  



	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot thank those of you who have read as well as commented, enough, because I am truly honored that you guys even remotely want to read this, so thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou. All of the things you've said just blow me away, and honestly mean so much to me. Also basically thank you to everyone who has even bothered to look this over, and give kudos.
> 
> On a different note I'm really excited for this next few chapters.

For about three days, Thor calls and calls and calls. Nothing. Apparently Loki really was finished, and for some reason that _terrified_ Thor. Come Monday, he was distracted, pissed off, and was not in the mood for anyone’s shit at work. He snaps at his secretary Jane to cancel the conference call he has after lunch, because he’s not going to be there for it. It’ll give him just enough time to race down to Loki’s apartment, and race back. Thor doesn’t really know how or why he got so... _deep._ He wants to do anything, everything if Loki will just pick up his fucking phone. 

Even though he’s going at lunch, Thor calls again, when he’s alone in his office. He stands facing the window, scowling out it like Loki can see him. 

“Loki, _answer your phone,”_ He begs, sounding pretty pathetic, but he doesn’t really care, “If you don’t I’m coming over--I mean I’m coming over anyway because I need to see you but--...Look I’ve got a weekend--the 16th--free of anything, and I want to take you somewhere,” Thor had thought about it all weekend; him, Loki, and the cabin in Big Bear. He runs a hand through his hair, “I’ll explain when I come over just....pick up or call me and tell me you’ll be there.” Frustrated, he hits end and runs a hand through his blond hair, gazing out ruefully at the greying sky of Los Angeles. 

 

An hour and a half later he’s banging on Loki’s door, panting and red-faced. He pauses for a moment, listens carefully for movement, then wraps his knuckles against the door again until they hurt. Finally he hears shuffling, and an exasperated _‘Oh for god’s sakes.....’_ Theres more shuffling and mumbling before the door swings back to reveal a very disheveled looking Loki. Thor would have thought it was cute, his ruffled, curling hair and the black glasses that seem to be a little cock-eyed on his face. He’s wearing a grey, oversized sweater--..

“Is that my shirt?” Thor inquires first, and Loki self-consciously tugs at its neckline that dips low on his chest. 

“No,” Loki says, and the tone of his voice speaks to the contrary. It’s Thor’s shirt, “What do you want?” He snaps, regaining what face he may have lost. Thor sighs and weasels his way into the doorframe, resting his shoulder against it. 

“Did you get any of my messages?” He asks calmly, because he isn’t going to get all worked up just yet. Loki crosses his arms over his chest indignantly. 

“Yes, obviously. You only left six.” His green eyes narrow. 

“Why wouldn’t you pick up?” Thor stays obstinate, he knows Loki is stubborn at best. 

“I’ve been rather busy actually, I have a piece due to the Times on Friday and I really should get back to it, so if you please, I’d like to g-” He sets his hands Thor’s shoulders and _tries_ to push, but really, is he made of _bricks?_

“Loki, Loki, stop, come on, just talk to me for a second would you?” Thor says hurriedly, and instead of backing out of the doorway, he steps into the apartment, then shuts the door as fast as he’s capable. Loki scowls. 

“Really, I’m not in the mood to discuss this-”

“I don’t care!” Thor says, voice a little loud, and maybe a tad hysterical. Loki makes a face, “I don’t care, because I’ve been going crazy all god damn weekend--without you! And jesus, for what? I said I’m sorry, and I am, I just slipped.” 

“You said that.” Loki drawls and Thor sighs. 

“You’re relentless.” 

“Mmm.” The smaller man just hums in agreement, and cocks his head to the side. 

“I’ve got the weekend of the 16th free, no meetings, nothing, and I want you to come up to Big Bear with me.” Thor’s thick shoulders slump as he pleads, watching Loki remain impassive. 

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” He says plainly, “You tell Sif, I’ll go.” 

“Tell her wh-?....Loki!” The blond frowns hard, holding out his hands beseechingly. He knows Loki has a point, that he should, by all means tell his wife but.... “Not right before Christmas, that’ll kill her....” He mumbles, and thinks he sees Loki smirk. 

“Then I’m afraid you’re going alone. Now if you’ll excuse me-”

“Stop, stop it, Loki,” Thor reaches out and snatches the other man by the elbow, his grip a little too hard. Loki stares up at him, eyes wide and alight with brimming anger, “I’ll tell her in January. I swear. And I want to, now just isn’t the right time.” He insists, and Loki’s lip curls in that way that says he’s inconsolable. 

“How many times are you going to tell me that?” Loki hisses, yanking his arm from Thor’s grip, “Touch me like that again and I’ll call her myself.” 

Thor’s jaw clenches as Loki walks further into his apartment, leaving the blond standing just outside of the kitchen. He runs his hand through his hair with a heavy sigh and glances at his watch. Theres about 20 minutes left. 

“I want to tell her, Loki,” That wasn’t the truth, _he_ didn’t want to tell her, he just wanted her to find out, “Trust me I’ve...She knows just as well as I do we’re not happy anymore. We just ignore it-” 

“Well, it looks like you can’t anymore,” Loki mumbles, rifling through a few papers on his desk that sits in front of the window. Thor paces into the living room, but keeps his distance, “I like you Thor, really, you’re good fun, but I don’t particularly want to be your chew toy.” He mused, shifting more things idly. 

 

  
_(Loki liked watching Thor squirm, liked watching him beg and plead and promise whatever conditions he’d deal out. He liked the groveling, and he’d keep lying to Thor, keep telling him he didn’t want this as much as the blond, just to keep him interested. Loki had convinced himself over the weekend that this wasn’t about feelings; the power he had over Thor was becoming intoxicating. Loki was a talented liar.)_   


  
__  


Thor scoffed, “You’re a writer, and that’s the best metaphor you could come up with?” He chuckled as he traversed the length of the living room. 

“You should leave now, I think.” Loki mumbled, but Thor isn’t so easily dissuaded. The blond steps toward Loki until they’re nearly pressed together, chest to back respectively. Heavy hands rest on Loki’s hips, but he insists on staying ambivalent. 

“What are you working on?” Thor asks softly, pressing his face into the curve behind Loki’s ear. Deft white fingers press against his jaw, as the dark haired man pushes him away. 

“An interview witih Tony Stark, actually,” Loki says lightly, “And I have to finish the first part before we do the next, so really, if you would.” He pushes his elbow back into Thor’s chest a little harder, and the blond raises his head. 

“Tony Stark is a friend of mine, I think he’d understand if you were delayed.” Thor grinned, and Loki rolled his eyes as he turned around in the blond’s embrace. 

“I won’t be. Go.” He pushes roughly at Thor’s chest, but he doesn’t budge. 

“Say you’ll come with me,” The taller man mumbles, leaning close till their noses touch, “Please Loki.” His blond eyebrows raise a little, with some sense of hope. The muscle in Loki’s jaw twitches under his skin, and he shifts. 

“You heard my condition Thor.” He says lowly, face still hard, “And I mean it.” 

For a while, Thor is quiet, considering. He knows that eventually he’ll have to tell Sif, and he figures that he can make good on his word to tell her after the holiday. So he closes his eyes and nods. 

“After the New Year, Loki, I swear I will. You have to trust me.” 

 

  
_(Loki should have known not to. Those words never bode well for anyone.)_   


  
__  


Thor returns that evening to find Loki’s demeanor changed from what had been something akin to a sea urchin, to that of a bristling house cat. But it’s enough for him to know that he still has Loki, and that they’re going to spend a weekend together. That thought makes the next few weeks easier to get through, and though they pass slowly, they still have their nights together, some of which they spend laying on the couch watching Jeopardy, or something equally mind-numbing. It was nice, oddly enough. Normally (or with Sif) Thor would have thought it boring, but with Loki, mundane things seemed...more pleasant. He _wanted_ to do those things with Loki. 

And he’d have that opportunity in Big Bear, and that’s what excited Thor the most. Two and a half days free of a lie, free of _living_ a lie. The last one he tells Sif before he packs up all his bags is that he and Balder are going up for a fishing trip before the holidays. Balder isn’t even home yet, and usually they don’t bother with taking brotherly trips, but all the more excuse for them to do it, Thor says. Sif is slightly reluctant, because it _is_ somewhat odd, but she just shrugs and says alright. As he throws all of his bags and his fishing pole into the back of the BMW, Thor feels a slight pang of guilt, but it doesn’t last for long--excitement far outweighs it. He kisses Sif, tells her he’ll call, and leaves. 

 

Loki is waiting outside of his building, leaning against the wall for shelter from the reign. He’s wearing a forest green peacoat, with a houndstooth scarf tucked into a black sweater under it all. Of course he looks as posh and elegant as he always does, his long legs crossed at the ankle as he leans. Thor pops the trunk and dashes out of the car, shouting a greeting to Loki. The blond grins happily as he kisses his lover, lingering for a moment before picking up the one dufflebag Loki chose to bring. They hurry back to the car, avoiding the pelting rain as much as possible. In the car they laugh and look over at one another, grinning wide and ecstatic. 

From there it takes about two hours to get to the cabin in Big Bear, which looks out over Big Bear lake. There’s a light dusting of snow, and the night air is just barely cool as they step out of the car. Loki stands in the driveway, gazing up at the house. 

“This is....” He tucks his hands into the pockets of his jacket, “Sure something...” He says as Thor hauls Loki’s bag over his shoulder, then picks up his own. The dark haired man stares up at the triangular roof, and the floor to ceiling windows that seem to make up the front of the house. 

“Wait till you see inside.” Thor grins, leaning in to bestow a quick kiss on Loki’s cheek, the keys jingling precariously in his hand. Loki follows the blond to the door, bouncing eagerly on his toes as Thor unlocks the front door, and pushes it open. It’s dark inside, and fairly cold, but when Thor flicks on the lights, it instantly feels warmer. The walls are a cream color, just off white where the deep warmth of the mahogany floors make it seem less bright somehow. To their right is the large living room, where a white-stone fireplace captures Loki’s attention. Behind it is the kitchen, and a door between that and the fireplace leads to the master bedroom.

“This is lovely.” Loki sighs as he follows Thor through the house, looking around at the furniture and little trappings as he goes. In the bedroom Thor tosses down their bags, flicks on the light at the bedside table, and looks around. Loki still stands in the doorway, glancing from the bed to the windows that look out over Big Bear lake. Thor likes the look of wonderment on Loki’s face. 

“Come here.” He says, waving his hand to beckon the slighter man. Loki drifts forward, eyes on the massive bed, though it lies bare. Without a word he drapes his arms around Thor’s neck to pull him down into an affectionate kiss. The blond returns it with a small smile and pulls Loki further into him with his arms securely draped around the other man’s waist. For a while they stand and kiss that way, languidly, happily. And that’s what Thor thinks he is, finally. Happy. Absently he knows that he could have this always, if only he said a few simple words to Sif...

Eventually they part, breathless as smiling. It’s nice to see Loki so...calm, maybe, or soft. Usually he’s clipped, sarcastic, and bordering on mean, but now his face just looks open. No smirk or wicked grin, just an unadulterated happy smile, and his eyes reflect that too. Thor gives him another quick kiss, before letting his arms fall, and stepping back. 

“I’ll go get the blankets and stuff.” He grins, and Loki nods. When he is alone, he peels out of his jacket and scarf, rounding the end of the bed to lay them over a chair that sits in the corner next to the windows. He looks out through the night at the lake, and the inky-black shadows of the pine trees all around it. Then he turns back to the room and admires the way he already feels at home here. Maybe it’s just Thor, or the soft light, but he feels comfortable. 

Thor returns with an armful of sheets, blankets, and pillows, all very luxurious looking. Loki helps him pull the sheets (crimson) over the king sized mattress with no small amount of joy. After that, they toe out of their shoes, Loki tugs off his sweater, and unbuttons Thor’s flannel with nimble fingers. It’s all very purposeful and slow, but they don’t undress all the way. Instead Thor collapses on the bed on his stomach, while Loki goes to his bag. The blond watches, head propped on his arm. 

“What are you doing?” He asks, when Loki disappears around the other side of the bed. 

“Nothing, don’t mind me darling, just lay there.” The weight dips on the bed, and in a matter of moments, Loki is straddling Thor’s thighs, then leaning down over his back. Gently, the slighter man kisses the back of Thor’s neck, pushing aside his hair, the lightly works his way over one shoulder, merely pressing his lips against the blond’s bronze skin gently. Thor closes his eyes just as Loki’s nose brushes his cheek, and only then does he open his eyes. Only half of Loki’s face is within his view, but of course what he sees is beautiful. His dark hair had fallen against his cheek, casting a shadow or two across it, but his green eyes still caught the light, warm and inviting. 

“Hello.” Thor murmurs, smiling. Loki presses a kiss to his stubbled cheek, and pulls away to sit up. 

“I know it’s a bit late, but I never asked what you wanted for Christmas.” Suddenly theres something liquidy soft and warm spreading over Thor’s shoulders under Loki’s hands as they press into the thick muscles of the blond’s back. Thor lets out a little groan. 

“Nnnh...you don’t need to get me anything. This is more than enough,” He grunted, as Loki’s nimble fingers rubbed circles between his shoulders, a hand on either side of his spine, “Though I should have asked the same, I suppose.” Loki makes a sound. 

“No I think this little trip is plenty darling, I’m quite impressed.” His hands continue their path and pressure alongside Thor’s spine, drawing out another grateful moan from the blond. It isn’t sexual (yet) which surprises them both--instead it’s...intimate. Comfortable, and incredibly _right._ Like they should have been doing this all their lives. 

“Yeah?” Thor asks with a smile, opening his eyes and twisting his head as much as he could to look back at Loki. 

“Yes. This is a very lovely house.” He admitted, though he probably knew that this had been Thor _and Sif’s_ vacation house. His face hardened for a moment and he grit his teeth.

“Mmmmm,” Thor moans again as Loki’s thumbs knead into the dimples of his lower back, “Bought it about five years ago,” Just after he and Sif were married, they went to Big Bear, loved it, and had to have a house there. They’d been together about three times over the six years they’d been married, “Honestly we don’t use it much.” 

Loki smiles even though Thor can’t see. 

“That’s a shame, I suppose we’ll have to make the most of it while we’re here then, hm?” Smoothing his hands back up the muscled expanse of Thor’s back, Loki leans down again so his chest lays over it, and he can lay his cheek just below the nape of the blond’s neck.  

“Mhm.” Thor hums, and for a while they’re silent, listening to one another breath. Thor concentrates on the rise and fall of Loki’s chest, the way his breath tickles, his fingers that dance idly down Thor’s side. He could fall asleep like this, but instead he turns a little, and Loki gets the hint. They kick out of their jeans silently, crawl under the covers. Loki takes up his usual position tucked up against Thor’s side, an arm and leg tossed over him possessively. It’s nice though, and they both fall asleep without really knowing it. 

  
  
  



	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a bit, I got sick over New Years and it was hard to write, and I didn't want to post another chapter till I had more written. ANYWAY I love your guys' comments. I definitely agree that Thor is a total dick, but that's what I'm going for :) Also, this will definitely blow up in his face, don't you worry. Just not yet ;D

In the morning Thor wakes up without fanfare, and blinks for a while until he realizes it. The comforter next to him is pushed back, and the place where Loki should be is decidedly empty. He frowns hard, pressing his face into the pillow as he brings his hand up to rub the sleep out of his face. After a few moments of sighing and a little bit of squirming, Thor lifts his head to look around the room. Again Loki is nowhere to be found, so the blond pushes himself up to rest on his elbow--he’s not going to leave the warmth of the bed just yet. 

His eye catches on movement just outside the door to the bedroom in the kitchen and of course, that’s where Loki is. He’s haphazardly draped in Thor’s flannel from last night, the shirt hanging unbuttoned off one shoulder, and the only other clothing he’s wears are a pair of socks and his briefs. Thor thinks its rather...endearing (cute is never an adjective he uses with Loki, at the dark haired man’s insistence.) Loki’s black hair is also an absolute mess, a sign that he’s had a good night of sleep. Thor grins and lays down again to wait for Loki. 

When the slighter man does trot back into the room, he’s clearly trying to be quiet about it, at least until he sees that Thor is awake. 

“I had to get a pot of coffee on.” Loki smiles sheepishly as he pulls up the side of the shirt that’s fallen, and crawls back into bed. He’s a little cool to the touch, and he quickly wiggles into Thor’s welcoming embrace. 

“You drink too much coffee...” Thor smiles, tugging Loki a little closer as the slighter man tucks his arms up against his chest, “It’s going to stunt your growth.” The both grin stupidly at that and Loki kisses Thor’s chin. 

“Well then I’ll just have to sleep for the rest of the day, I suppose.” He hums. His eyes are bright and mischievous again, changed a little from last night. Theres still a very...happy air about him, for which Thor is glad. Usually Loki is just this side of glum. 

“That won’t do either.” Thor breathes, leaning in to press his lips to Loki’s. The kiss doesn’t get very far, for Loki pulls away. 

“And why not?” Loki pouts, his fingers rubbing along Thor’s chin and jaw, “You don’t want to stay in bed with me today?” The little moue that over comes his face is almost as irresistible as a fluffy black kitten. The blond chuckles, his hand smoothing over Loki’s arm. 

“I’m afraid not. We’ve got dinner to catch.” That strikes Loki silent, his eyes going a little wide. 

“What?” He asks, all teasing gone now, “Don’t...don’t tell me you mean that the way I think you do.” 

“That depends, how do you think I mean it?” Thor asked with a chuckle in his voice. 

“We’re not...you’re not...taking me hunting....are you?” 

Thor barked a laugh, nearly rolling away from Loki as his shoulders shook with it. The expression on Loki’s face is so priceless, that kitten look turning into more of a “hurt kitten” look. Loki merely watched Thor, unamused. 

“No,” The blond manages through his laughter, “No, no, I’m not taking you hunting,” He rolls back toward Loki, gathers him up in his arms again, “I’m taking you _fishing.”_ Loki doesn’t look any more pleased by _that_ development. 

“...Fishing.” He says, voice blank and somewhat irate. 

“Mhm. I’m here under that pretense, so I might as well.” Thor shrugs, and Loki’s face rumples more, frown forming on his brow. 

“But....we could.....stay here and...” Loki sounded defeated, but he still weaseled a hand between himself and Thor to cup the blond’s crotch gently, “We should stay. It’s warm here too, and so _cold_ outside, why do you want to leave? Let me convince you to say...” He cooed, fingers tightening around Thor’s soft length through his briefs. 

“Convince me all you want but we’re still going,” The blond grins and rolls his hips into Loki’s hand invitingly. Of course the dark haired man takes his hand back with a playful glare, “Aw c’mon.” Thor mumbles, tightening his arms around Loki’s waist to haul him in closer. 

“You’ll have to drag me. Out of bed and to wherever you think this fishing is going to happen. I don’t even know _how_ to fish.” Loki glares a little, and Thor just arches an eyebrow--he’s heard a challenge.

“When you say _drag you....”_ Thor draws the words out and looks at Loki inquiringly. Green eyes widen.

“No, Thor, _no,_ I know that look--”

Next there is an immense amount of scuffling, flying sheets and pillows and limbs as Thor wrestles Loki into his arms in a sort of princess style way, arms under  Loki’s knees and back. But before he can do much else they both go tumbling to the floor in a heap of tangled bedclothes, arms, and legs. 

“You fucking _oaf-”_ Loki grouses, shoving at Thor’s shoulders in an attempt to get away. It sort of works, but he falls off Thor’s lap, or something, and his head thunks against the floor. Meanwhile the blond is beginning to chuckle, still reaching out for Loki blindly. 

“You _told_ me too, Loki, don’t b-” Thor says around a laugh, and Loki huffs as he kicks away the sheets wrapped around his feet. 

“Oh shut up, I’m out of bed now, you big lummox, don’t try to placate me.” Loki growls as he shoots Thor a glare, and stands up, his socked feet tramping out of the bedroom the only thing in Thor’s field of vision. He rolled over, laughing, and didn’t bother to get up just yet. 

 

An hour later Thor forces some warmer clothes on Loki, and, as promised, hauls him out of the cabin. The morning is still cool as they tromp along a path through the trees that leads to the lake and of course Loki complains about it. 

“I’m a cold blooded creature,” He hisses tromping over bracken and rocks on the path, “I need heat to survive.” 

“We’re almost there. You can sun yourself on the rocks, my little lizard.” Thor glances over his shoulder at Loki, who merely scowls up at him, and trails along. 

Sure enough the bank where Thor stops to set up is bathed in sunlight, the green water of the lake twinkling like the night sky. Loki toes off his shoes, pulls off his socks and perches on a rather large rock that stretches out into the water. 

“Is it very cold?” Loki asks lightly, shifting so he’s leaning back on his hands, knees bent although he’s reaching out an experimental foot. 

“It’s winter Loki.” Thor says with a subtle roll of his eyes, even though Loki isn’t looking. 

“ _It’s winteh Lehke,”_ Loki parrots, his voice distorted stupidly, like a child would do when mocking a friend or something. The blond snorts and shakes his head as he carefully ties a lure and hook to the end of his fishing line. 

“You are so mature, for your age.” He chuckles, and squints one eye shut against the morning sun when he looks up at Loki. The dark haired man is looking back at him, eyes narrowed in a glare that seems to be perpetually fixed on Thor. But he looks beautiful where he is, perched on the rock and haloed by light. Thor won’t dare say as much, but he smiles fondly anyhow. 

“Let’s get this over with.” Loki mutters, and tugs his socks on again. 

 

They stand (or in Loki’s case sit) at the waters edge for about an hour in companionable silence. After that Loki gets fidgety, and stands from his rock to stand with Thor. He stares at the water, asks what Thor’s doing, if they can go yet because he’s _horny_ and it _is_ cold out here. His blond, towering lover merely chuckles and kisses him deeply for a few minutes to shut him up. 

“That won’t placate me, you know.” Loki pouts, flouncing down on the gravel next to Thor’s feet, and drawing his knees up a little. 

“Fine then, keep talking.” The blond shrugs, cranking the handle of the reel gently. Loki tucks his long black hair behind his ears, smooths out the rest of it before pulling a piece in front of his face to play with. 

“And what should I talk about my dear?” He mumbles, attention fixated on his hair. Above him Thor shrugs. 

“Talk about yourself. I don’t really care, just please don’t _whine_ any more. I’m enjoying myself.” He glances down at Loki, who raised his elegant eyebrows. 

“I wasn’t whining,” He murmured, sounding rather defensive, “What do you want me to talk about, besides myself? I’ve nothing to say, really.” 

“You were,” Thor jabs playfully, and pulls back on the fishing pole in his hands, “I don’t know, Loki, tell me things you’ve never told me before. You’ve never told me anything about your family or your childhood or....anything really, it’s like I don’t know you all _that_ well.” Which, in fact, was all true. Loki never talks about his father or his mother, or siblings for that matter. Thor doesn’t like that all he knows about Loki is that he might not be from America, and he’s incredibly smart, to a frightening degree. 

“My family,” Loki mutters disinterestedly, “What about them?” He’s clearly diverting, stalling. 

“You never say anything about them. Do you have siblings?” Thor pushes, for he isn’t going to let this go. They have the time and rare opportunity to be alone together, where they can actually discuss these things. Loki drops the strand of hair he’s been playing with, and gazes blankly at the stones under him. 

“I do.” He supplies. Thor sighs heavily. 

“And? Their names? Brothers or sisters?” 

“Two brothers,” 

  
_(He hates thinking about them)_   


“Helblindi and Byleistr.” He picks up a smooth grey stone, turns it in his fingers, then drops it. 

“And your parents?” The blond goads some more, and Loki sighs. 

“My mother, Fárbauti, died when I was ten, and my father, Laufey, hated me. In fact they all did, save for my mother. They thought I was weak because of the way I was--the way I _am._ I used to dance when I was a child, and they pestered me mercilessly for it. Laufey saw me weak, like a girl, and they all loved...” He says the latter all in one breath, so quick Thor nearly misses some of it, “Loved to treat me like one too. Laufey and Byleistr only ever hit me but Helblindi-” He stops abruptly, and for a long while. 

Frowning, Thor looks down at him. He feels....angry. How could they even lay a hand on Loki, for any reason?

“What is it?” He asks softly, and Loki turns is head to the right, away from Thor. 

“Nothing. I told you what you wanted to know.” He does this sometimes, shuts down. While it irritates Thor, he knows there must be a reason for it, so he frowns again, and eases himself down to the ground next to Loki. The blond slams the end of the fishing pole into the ground so hard it sticks, and drapes a free arm around Loki’s shoulders. 

“I’m sorry,” He says, leaning in close so there is naught but a breadth of space between his nose and Loki’s cheek, “I didn’t think it would bother you so.” Thor nudges the slighter man’s face playfully. Loki shakes his head, and looks out at the lake. 

“Don’t be sorry. What bothers me is the way I start to feel when I talk about them.” His eyes look like glass, like the surface of the lake; blank, smooth, hard. Thor wonders if he should asks, and decides he’s a fool anyway. 

“And how’s that?” He murmurs, bowing his head till his chin rests on Loki’s boney shoulder, and his forehead touches the other man’s ear. 

“Disgusting,” Loki says, voice light now, like it’s obvious, “Worthless, really, unlovable. It makes my skin crawl, more than anything I suppose...” He mutters, and his voice makes Thor feel even guiltier for asking. 

“You know you’re neither of those things,” The blond lifts his head as he presses in closer, murmuring those words in Loki’s ear, “Never any of those things. You know I love you.” The words slip out before Thor can stop them. It’s not that he doesn’t mean them--he hadn’t consciously thought it yet, for he thought it was too soon but it didn’t make it any less true. And the silence that follows is disheartening, but  at the same time, he doesn’t expect Loki to say it _ever._

With a smile, the dark haired man turns to Thor, and places his spindly fingers under the blond’s stubbly jaw. 

“My foolish boy...didn’t your mother warn you about falling in love with girls like me?” He grins, and in a flash is himself again. Thor chuckles from behind closed lips, and leans forward to kiss Loki briefly. 

“My mother never lectured me much,” The blond says, smiling at Loki though their lips are still nearly touching. Another quick kiss, “And any way, do you think I’d listen?” A mischievous grin breaks across his face, a great, bright thing, and gets to his feet. Loki smiles, shaking his head as he looks back out to the lake. 

“No, you and your thick skull, you wouldn’t.” 

 

 

It takes a while, but Thor catches a fish, a thing of fair size. Loki wrinkles his nose when Thor pulls the thing from the water, and then shrieks when the blond insists he give it a kiss. For a few minutes Thor chases him around with the fish, but the combination of laughing hysterically and running makes him a little breathless, so he gives up. Although as punishment he does make Loki carry the cooler of ice he puts the fish in. It’s endlessly amusing. 

Once back at the cabin, Thor washes up, and tosses his catch in the freezer for dinner later. Meanwhile Loki is stretched out on the couch, half asleep with the TV remote in his hand. Thor joins him, and they shift around, get comfortable, until Loki is laying on top of the blond, and like that they fall asleep for a few hours with the TV going in the background. 

 

 

  
_Sif is sitting in the living room when the phone rings, and she doesn’t get up to get it right away, opting to keep shuffling through home brochures instead. With a sigh, though, she gets up and hurries into the kitchen, flicking her long dark hair away from her face. They hardly used the home phone anymore, but there it was, anchored to the kitchen wall above the coffee maker._   


  
_“Hello?” Sif sighs, and looks out the window above the sink._   


  
_“Hey Sif, it’s Balder, is my brother there?”_   


  
_Sif frowns. That’s not....right?_   


  
_Balder is in Big Bear...with his brother....._   


  
_“What?” is all she can come up with. Balder is silent for a little while._   


  
_“My brother, y’know, Thor? Your husband? He booked my flight for Wednesday and I still haven’t got the itinerary, so I’d kinda. Like to have that.”_   


  
_Again Sif is struck silent, and she doesn’t say anything for a while._   


  
_Did Thor lie...?_   


  
_“You’re...supposed to be in Big Bear though...” She murmurs, stepping forward to rest against the counter._   


  
_“I didn’t get that memo, Mrs. Odinson. Where’s Thor?” He asks, clearly knowing that whatever is going on is odd._   


  
_“He’s at the cabin in_ **_Big Bear,_ ** _where you’re supposed to be!” Her voice gets a little high at the end, because she doesn’t know if she’s angry yet, or what she’s feeling._   


  
_“....Huh.....Well I’m still at school.....” He mumbles, trying not to make things worse. It wasn’t his fault, but still. Sif twists her mouth._   


  
_“He told me you came up early so the two of you could go fishing.” She murmurs, and sighs._   


  
_What did this mean? What was Thor even doing up there then? Was he even **in**_ _Big Bear?_   


  
_“Oh...um....no I’m....not....yeah...” Balder stammered, “Maybe you should call him.”_   


  
_Sif’s head shot up, eyes going a little wide._   


  
_“Good idea.” She mumbles, and hangs up, slamming the phone in the counter. Tearing through the utility drawer, Sif scrambles to find the number to the cabin. It’s in here somewhere, she knows for a fact, although she doesn’t know why she doesn’t just try Thor on his cell._   


  
_No, if she did that, he could lie, say he wasn’t in Big Bear..._   


  
_The number is on a crumpled receipt stuffed in the back corner of the drawer. Sif dials calmly, lifts the phone to her ear, and waits._   


 

 

 

When Thor wakes up it’s to Loki yawning against his chest and the phone ringing. It’s really disorienting singularly because he has absolutely _no_ idea who it could be. Loki pushes himself up, sleepily rubbing at his eyes, to allow Thor to get up as well. 

“Who could that be?” Loki asks, snuggling back into the cushions as Thor stumbles into the kitchen where the phone sits next to the fridge. 

“Fuck if I know.” Thor mumbles, rubbing his face. Really, he has no idea who the hell could be calling. The three times he’d been here, he’d never heard the phone ring--it was more of an emergency thing than anything. For a few moments as he gains his bearings, Thor rubs his eye and stares at the phone. It answers immediately when he picks it up. 

“Hrm-Hello?” He mumbles, expecting a wrong number or a really random telemarketer. 

 _“Thor?”_ He doesn’t expect to hear his wife. Thor’s knees nearly give out, _“Well at least you didn’t lie about going up to the cabin. Your brother called, by the way. You need to email him his itinerary for his flight on Wednesday.”_ She snaps. 

“Sif, I only m-” 

 _“Who are you with?”_ She asks immediately, and theres an anger in her voice that Thor has rarely ever heard. 

“What? Hun, no one, I’m j-”

  
_“Alright, I’m going to give you one god damn chance to explain to me what the hell you’re doing, and who you’re with, or I’m-”_   


“What are you going to do Sif?” Thor doesn’t expect himself to snap back, but he does anyway, “Come up here? I’m not fucking here with anyone, I’m alone. I needed a god damn weekend _away,_ alone for _once.”_ He’s not sure where this vicious tone came from, or why he’s so suddenly angry over the intrusion. When he turns around Loki is standing there, leaning against the counter and raking a long-fingered hand through his messy hair. 

  
_“Oh, alone for once--Who do you think you’re talking to Thor?”_   


“I’m sorry, but honestly Sif. I just needed time off, away from work. Did you try my cell? It’s off but...why are you calling the cabin.” 

Loki’s eyes watched his face, expression terrifyingly calm. 

 _“No, I wanted to see if you were lying about anything else.”_ She sounds calmer, but probably no less angry, if Thor knew her at all. 

“I’m not lying ab--alright, I lied about Balder,” Thor keeps his eyes on Loki, who smirks at his words, and steps forward, “I just-....I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I didn’t want you to think-” Loki presses up against him, sighing and nuzzling against the side of his neck, opposite from where the blond holds the phone, “That...you know I didn’t want you here but I j-”

  
_“Well obviously you don’t, or you would have asked.”_   


“Tell her.” Loki whispers against Thor’s ear, his voice little more than a breath. It makes Thor shiver and turn his head. 

“I’m sorry. Things have just been crazy at work lately-” He’s surprised she’s even buying it. He’s such a terrible god damn liar, “And I just needed a day of quiet, _away_ from LA. I didn’t tell you because I thought you’d be angry with me-”

  
_“I’m angry with you anyway.”_   


Loki chuckles, presses a kiss to Thor’s neck. 

“I’ll be home tomorrow we can...” 

 _“Talk about it then?”_ Sif asks, voice laden with sarcasm, _“Yeah, fine. Bye.”_

“Bye Sif-” And then the line goes dead. Thor sets the phone down on the counter and sighs heavily. Somewhere in the back of his mind he had known this wouldn’t fly....

“If you were looking for an opportunity, that was it.” Loki says flippantly, nodding at the phone as he stands back to look at Thor in the eye. The blond shakes his head. 

“I told you I’m not going to tell her yet. She’d be devastated.” He mumbles, eyes unfocused as they stare over Loki’s shoulder. 

“Oh please, what do you think she’d be more upset about, the fact that you’re sleeping with another man, or the fact that you left her before the holidays?” Loki snorts, and waves a hand. Thor fixes him with an irate gaze. 

“You don’t get it, Loki. You can’t understand.” He mumbles, and Loki scoffs. 

“There’s nothing for me to understand,” The dark haired man shrugs, “You’re a sentimental idiot.” His voice sounds a little different, fonder maybe. 

“And you’re a cold bastard, but I think we get along alright.” Thor replies, and watches as Loki grins. 

 

 

 

  
_(Sif knows something’s going on. She isn’t as stupid as Thor thinks.)_   


  
  
_  
_   



	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for the most stilted, clinical depictions of sex I've ever written.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you all SO MUCH for your comments, you have no idea how much it means to me to know you guys are enjoying this! Cue Thor being more of a dick here! (don't worry, it gets better soon.) Also this is going to be over quicker than I expected?

After brushing off another argument about telling Sif of the affair, Thor takes the fish from the freezer and begins to clean it. That is Loki’s cue to leave, apparently, and he bolts out of the kitchen to the couch again, sprawling over it and looking rather demure. While the matter was dropped, Thor still felt anxious, uncomfortable now that Sif had caught him (if but a little). He’s caught between a rock and hard place, but he doesn’t know how to work it out yet. 

Telling Sif would mean _leaving_ Sif, and Thor wasn’t sure if he was ready for that. Leave a woman he’s been with for nearly six years, or a man he’s _known_ for six months. He hates to put it in those terms because Loki means a lot to him, but it’s just the truth, isn’t it. And Thor doesn’t want this to hurt either of them...

He wants to go on lying and getting away with this. It’s easy. Sort of. 

Sometimes. 

Not really. But it’s easier than divorce. 

And does he _really_ want to get divorced? For _Loki?_ Who say’s they’ll do any better? Before this, Thor didn’t even look at men that way, so why would this be any more than a fling? 

Well. It already was, but still. 

Thor was thinking himself in circles and scraping fish guts into the trashcan outside. 

When the fish is clean and whatnot, he returns inside and starts on dinner. Loki hovers in, peeks over Thor’s shoulder, commenting about how he smells like fish and asking what else the blond was making. It seemed the phone call had been forgotten, so for a while they mulled about the kitchen, Thor taunting Loki with his “fishy hands” (as Loki had so eloquently put it; _“Get your paws off me, you don’t need your fishy hands to kiss me.”_ )

It’s obvious that he doesn’t want to talk about Sif either, and Thor is grateful for it. 

Along with the fish, Thor cooks up just about the only other thing he knows how to cook--rice--which is still very rudimentary but an accomplishment for him. Loki smirks and tells him how impressive it is that he can cook, especially a meal he’s caught. 

“Very hunter-gatherer,” is how he puts it, as he works open a bottle of sauvignon blanc. 

 It’s not the first dinner together, but it’s the first that neither of them feels _rushed._ Usually it’s take-out, standing up in Loki’s kitchen wolfing down whatever they ordered, sometimes completely naked, because all they’ve had time for is a quickie and some food. And apparently that’s worked out okay thus far, but still, this is nice. 

They talk about things here and there, what Thor is doing for the holidays, mundane things like that. Loki sips at his wine, which looks so elegant and beautiful, it’s unfair. However Thor still wonders what he the dark haired man didn’t tell him earlier this morning. Something about one of his brothers, and Thor can begin to guess what happened. His hand clenches around the stem of his fork. 

“...Thor.” Loki asks into his wine glass. He’s looking over it’s rim at the blond, doe-eyes wide. 

“Sorry I just uh. Your brothers I was um-...thinking about what you told me.” Thor says, although he doesn’t sound to confident. He just doesn’t want to upset Loki, but the other man looks away, back straightening. For a few seconds, as he smooths his hands over the napkin on his lap, Loki is silent. 

“You needn’t worry yourself with it darling, it’s in the past. I’ve long since forgotten about it.” He waves a hand dismissively, and goes pack to his meal, poking at his rice. Thor just stares at him, wondering if his father or one of his brothers gave him that scar on his forehead. It’s not obvious, just a thin line of skin that’s whiter than the rest of him, but if you’re up close enough, often enough, it’s visible.

Thor taps his fingers against the table. 

“It’s fine if you don’t want to talk about it, I get that, but I’d....” He chooses his next words carefully, “That you’d want to tell me.” Although the likelyhood of Loki giving up that information willingly is slim, seeing as Thor had basically forced the other things out of him. And in true form, Loki doesn’t say anything for a while, sipping at his wine and taking little bird bites of his dinner. 

“Sometime,” He murmurs, finally, “I haven’t told anyone, really, so....I’ll trust you to understand that this isn’t the easiest subject for me.” It’s the longest show of vulnerability that Thor has seen in Loki yet, and it’s disheartening. He immediately reaches across the corner of the table and grasps Loki’s hand in his, pulling it away from the stem of his wine glass. 

“I’m sorry for bringing it up again but...y’know me,” Thor smiles warmly, “I’m a big brother. And maybe this is just a warning, if I ever meet your dad or your brothers, there’s a chance I’ll beat the living shit out of them.” At that Loki snorts, smirking subtly. 

“You won’t have to worry about that darling, I haven’t seen any of them in years.” He says wistfully, and pulls his hand from Thor’s grip gently. 

“Still.” The blond says. 

“Well if you insist,” Loki smiles genuinely now, setting his fork on his plate as he stands, “Are you done? Tell me you’re done.” He asks, reaching for Thor’s plate. Smiling, the blond sets his fork on his plate, and looks up at Loki. 

“I’m done.” He murmurs, and watches Loki grin. 

“Good,” Leaning down, the dark haired man placed a kiss on Thor’s lips, “Let’s go take a shower. I’m not fucking you when you smell like a fish monger.” 

Thor began to laugh as Loki took their plates to the sink.

When everything in the kitchen had been cleaned up or put away, Loki drags Thor into the master bath for a shower. It’s a gigantic thing, all frosted glass and brown marble, with two shower heads. Thor’s bathroom at _home_ isn’t this nice (well, it doesn’t have two shower heads, anyway). They stand back to back for a little while, but when Thor turns to grab the shampoo, his eyes catch on the sight of Loki lathering soap in his hands, his eyes locked on the blond. He sets the bar of soap down and begins to smooth his hands over his chest, rubbing slow, wide circles into his skin. 

Thor just watches, standing under the stream of hot water at his back. More than what Loki is doing--his hands gradually drifting lower on his torso--it’s the intent in his eyes that makes every movement erotic. Of course Thor can’t look away, struck dumb as Loki reaches his thighs, his thumbs spreading to their insides and pushing into the soft skin gently. From there his hands slide up just a little, enough that he can run a hand over the length of his soft cock, twisting at the head before slipping down again. He isn’t hard yet, which is incredible to Thor because his prick is already coming to stand at attention. Like a dog when called, and Loki would love that metaphor, no doubt. 

Moving his hands again, Loki smoothed the lather of soap over his hips and back to his cock. This time though, one slips lower, under it, and he takes his sac in his hand. Thor watches Loki’s fingers squeeze, and he licks his lips. He’s definitely hard now, his cock standing out proud and thick from between his legs. Loki cocks an eyebrow, and for a long while is silent. Then he turns into the spray, rinses a little (hands still wandering), and turns back. His expression is a million times different; eyes bright in that way Thor knows doesn’t bode well for him, though there’s that playful smirk curling his lips. 

“Get on your knees.” He says, pushing his wet hair back from his face, a piece curling over his cheekbone in protest. Thor does as he’s told, doesn’t miss a beat, doesn’t say a word. He does smile a little though, until he feels the marble under his knees, and it fucking _hurts._ The water is pelting down on Loki’s back, and it runs in snaking rivers down his thighs, over his hips, down his rapidly stiffening cock. 

Thor leans in and begins mouthing at Loki’s lower stomach, nipping and lapping at the wet skin. Loki adjusts his stance, his dick bobbing against the underside of Thor’s chin. The blond grins and doesn’t dally any further, curling his tongue around the pink head of Loki’s prick to suck it into his mouth. He’s not experienced at sucking cock, because he’s only really done it a handful of times, but Loki is a good and eager teacher. 

As Thor slides his mouth down around Loki’s pale cock, long boney fingers thread through his wet hair, and fist there. He pulls, guiding Thor’s head back, and the blond looks up at him, blue eyes smiling where his mouth is otherwise occupied. Loki smiles in return, a portrait of viciousness, and pulls Thor back down roughly. It’s surprising, and he chokes a little, then starts to swallow around the tip of Loki’s cock as the dark haired man begins to thrust gently into his mouth. 

It always starts like that, gently, Thor moving as much as Loki does, swirling and pushing his tongue. But what Loki really gets off on is fucking the blond’s pliant mouth, hard when he really gets going, and watching those blue eyes go watery. Thor draws off for a breath, face flushed as he pants and looks up at Loki because it’s all he can do. The willowy man smiles and runs the tip of his finger along the bottom of Thor’s bottom lip. 

“You are such a slut for me aren’t you,” He murmurs fondly, lips pursing a bit around the words. He grabs Thor’s jaw suddenly, fingers digging into the hollows of his cheeks, “Aren’t you?” That bit is said through clenched teeth, but around a smirk. Thor grins. 

“Of course.” He takes Loki’s cock in his mouth again and moans around it for emphasis. Loki laughs, the hand in Thor’s hair jerking, pulling him further down on his cock until he feels the blond gag. Only then does he let him pull back, breath, and go down again. 

Loki sighs contentedly and lets Thor do some of the work, head bobbing just about at a pace that he knows Loki likes. He doesn’t deign to touch himself yet, though, because he knows Loki will most likely return the favor tenfold. The water splattering them both begins to run cold, so Thor eventually results to something he knows will get Loki off quicker. While he continues sucking Loki’s cock, he brings a hand up to palm at his balls, rolling them gently with his fingers, and tugging lightly. Loki gives an appreciative moan, and starts thrusting further past Thor’s lips again. 

Another thing about Loki, he likes making a mess. He’s never content to simply _come in Thor’s mouth,_ it always has to be on his face, his chin and cheeks, or his chest. It isn’t so much the lovely image of Thor splattered with his release, sticky and dripping from his lips, but more the proof of taking something he’d needed (wanted, really, but that hardly matters.) And that’s why he pulls free of Thor’s mouth, jerks himself to completion quickly, and watches, open mouthed, breathless, smiling as a few white ropes of his come splash across Thor’s cheek. 

The blond merely closes his eyes and waits for the warmth against his skin, then peeks an eye open to look up at Loki. He’s still breathing hard, and stroking himself slowly, squeezing the head of his cock as if he has more to give. His green eyes are laughing, focused just to the side of Thor’s face, and it makes the blond curious. 

“You got it in my hair didn’t you.” He says lowly, and watches as Loki breaks out into a wide grin before he starts laughing. Thor stands, stretching his knees a little because they hurt, as Loki leans against the tile wall cackling. Stepping under the water, Thor closes his eyes and turns his face into it, wiping the gooey mess from his cheeks. 

“He-here,” Loki whimpers, holding out the bottle of shampoo. Thor snatches it from him and scowls, “Oh come now, like you haven’t done worse to me. Hurry up, I’m getting out.” Loki says as he pushes away from the wall, plants a quick kiss on Thor’s shoulder, and pinches his ass before pushing open the glass door of the shower. 

Thor just shakes his head and squeezes a bit of shampoo into the palm of his hand. Loki may have been catty, rude, and downright mean sometimes, but being with him was _never_ boring. 

In keeping with his exciting nature, Loki is still naked when Thor walks out of the bathroom, although he’s stretched out on the bed. And theres something in his hands. 

“Hel-loo.” He chimes, face hidden by the camera. Thor stops half-way to the bed, and raises his eyebrows. 

“What are you doing?” The blond asks, stepping further into the bedroom. Loki looks up from the camera and grins. 

“Well I was under the impression we’d be making love now, seeing as you’re still,” He nods at Thor’s erection, tilting the camera decidedly _down,_ “Ready to go.” The blond smiles and palms himself through the towel wrapped around his waist. 

“Not with that on.” Thor points, holding the towel secure as he waltzes toward the bed. Loki pouts. 

“Oh why not. It’ll be fun, I know you’d just _love_ to see how you look while you fuck me,” He smirks and his legs draw up just a little to prop his feet on the sheets, “Hear the sounds you make.” The last part is spoken lower in that tone Loki knows can reel Thor in, and his smile is gone. Thor licks his lips and considers. It’s probably a bad idea, but Thor smiles, and reaches for the box of condoms on the nightstand. 

“That’s my good boy.” Loki chuckles, rolling onto his stomach. There, he’s in the pool of the lamplight, droplets of water that slide down from his hair glittering on his shoulders, along the sharp edges of his collar bones. He reaches out and sets the little silver camera on the bedside table, turning it this way and that till he deems the angle good enough. All the while Thor watches him and the elegant line of his back, the swell of his ass--he’s almost too beautiful. Theres no doubt in Thor’s mind, he’s wretchedly in love with this man. 

Loki stays on his stomach, drawing his knees up under him a little and resting on his elbows, presenting his ass in a way, as Thor climbs onto the bed, condom packet in his teeth. They’ve both been tested, a few times, but still, they’re cautious. As Thor tears open the condom and rolls it on, Loki slides a hand between the pillows where he’d stashed a tube of lubricant. Without a word he arches a little and holds the lube out to Thor, who chuckles and takes it, popping open the cap

“Go slow,” Loki says, folding his arms and resting his head on them, “I want to come again like this.” He murmurs, and Thor shakes his head fondly as he squeezes an ample amount of lube on his fingers. 

“Whatever you say boss.” He says, two fingers pressing inside easily. Thor is big, thick still, but Loki doesn’t need much preparation anymore, so in no time at all the blond has him pushing back into his fingers, making quiet, insistent sounds. And of course, Thor can’t wait much longer, so he gives Loki what he wants. 

It takes all of Thor’s restraint not to just fuck Loki into the mattress, use his body till he himself comes, but he doesn’t. He takes his time, thrusts long and slow, and Loki spurs him on with his usual slew of filthy encouragements. Like this, though, going slow, Thor can watch Loki move; fluid motions like a snake, back bowing and arching, hips rolling back to meet the blond’s thrusts. He’s all controlled grace and long limbs, the fact that he used to be a dancer making way too much sense here. Thor wonders, idly, if Loki looks this good when he fucks, he must have been stunning when he danced. Maybe he’ll ask for a private show. 

Yet when it really gets tough for Thor to hold back for much longer, Loki gives him the go ahead to fuck him as hard as he likes, and of course Thor is happy to oblige. It doesn’t take long, once he starts snapping his hips so hard Loki can’t keep himself up on his elbows, and falls into the mattress, whimpering, whining as he does. Just before he comes, Thor leans over Loki’s back and rests his forehead between the dark haired man’s shoulder blades, a litany of _fuck, Loki, yeah,_ on his lips. 

Loki, surprisingly, comes first with something that sounds like a sob, but soon dissolves into soft chuckles. Thor tenses above him, silent but filling the condom around his cock. He sighs and lets himself collapse atop Loki, hips still grinding a little, fruitlessly. Loki tilts his head to the side, murmurs Thor’s name, and the blond lifts his head wearily, and stretches up to press their mouths together in a sloppy kiss. 

It takes them a while, but eventually Thor pulls away, and they move about the bed, Loki turning over lazily after he turns off the camera (that Thor had _completely_ forgotten about) as Thor ties off the condom, and tosses it in a waist basket next to the nightstand. After they get settled, Loki wiggles close and tangles his legs with Thor’s, his spindly arms tucked up between their chests. The blond folds one arm under his head, and slings the other over Loki’s ribs, and sighs contentedly. 

“Norway.” Loki says suddenly with a sigh as well. Thor arches an eyebrow. 

“What?” He murmurs, his fingers stilling from where they’d been tracing over the lattice of Loki’s ribs. 

“My family. We’re from Norway,” Loki smiles softly and tucks a hand up under his head, and reaches out to Thor’s face with the other. He runs the back of his fingers under the blond’s chin, up his fuzzy jaw, and then spreads them out over his cheek, “Moved to New York when I was ten. Lived in Manhattan till I was 18, and now I’m here.” It’s like being beat over the head with information. Loki in New York. Loki a _New Yorker_ in L.A. 

“...Huh....Well traveled then.” Thor murmurs, just as Loki leans in to plant a kiss on his lips. 

 

For the rest of the night they lay in bed and talk, and take breaks to kiss and touch, but mostly they take it easy, reveling in the time they have together. No rush to get home, no schedule to keep, and it’s so fucking nice, Thor never wants to leave. 

But eventually morning comes, and they have to. Their reluctance is palpable in the air, in the way Loki sniffs, tucks his messy hair behind his ear as he puts his clothes away, completely silent. For some reason Thor wants to _apologize_....but no, there is a reason, and it is this: he is sorry their life can’t be like this. He’s sorry he has to go “home” to someone he can’t say he loves anymore, that he has to leave Loki, and go play house with someone else. He doesn’t regret any of what they’ve done, their relationship, but he is sorry for the hurt it causes for all three parties. 

 

 

A few hours later he pulls the BMW up in front of Loki’s apartment, and throws it into park. They sit there for a long while, Loki looking at Thor, and Thor staring out the window. 

“Don’t be so glum, you’ll see me soon, for heavens sake.” Loki murmurs kindly, and reaches over to take Thor’s hand in his. 

“Yeah I know...” The blond sighs and turns his head to look at the man next to him. Loki has his hair tied back in an elastic band, and it looks good. All the angles of his face aren’t hidden, and they make his eyes look even bigger. Thor leans across the center console and kisses Loki, fervent and slow. A spindly hand reaches up to cup his jaw as Loki licks into his mouth, tasting of too-sweet coffee. 

“Alright,” The dark haired man sighs, and pulls away, “Off with you then, or else I’m coming home with you.” He murmurs, giving Thor a smile that doesn’t work as well as it should. Nodding, Thor sits back and runs a hand through his hair before he reaches down and pops the trunk. 

“I’ll call you.” He says softly, as Loki pops open his door. 

“I know you will,” is his light reply, and the door slams shut after him. 

 

By the time Thor arrives home, his stomach is in knots, and his knuckles are white from gripping the steering wheel. He sits in the garage, car off, hands gripping the wheel, and wonders if this is it. If he can tell her now, or if she’ll just figure it out. He opes she will, it’s not that hard. 

After what felt like an eternity, Thor grabbed his keys and got out of the car, slinging his bag over his shoulder. 

 _Maybe she isn’t home,_ he thinks of his wife, but where the hell else would she be on a Sunday afternoon?  He resigns himself to the fact that this is probably it, and as he twists the door handle, he breathes a sigh of relief. When he opens the door and steps into the kitchen, Sif isn’t there. He sighs, shuts the door behind him.

“Siiif?” He calls, and right when he does Sif appears in the kitchen doorway, as if she’d just come down the stairs. Thor wilts, a frown forming on his face, “Babe-”

“Just-stop, don’t...” She raises a hand to silence him, and walks into the kitchen to meet him. He steps forward, he doesn’t really know why, “Before you say anything....please, _don’t_ lie to me.” Her dark green eyes look up at him beseechingly. They look sad. She looks sad. 

“I swear to you I’m not lying,” It’s out before he can stop himself. He reaches out for Sif, hands lighting on her elbows to pull her toward him, “Sif, I’m not, I wouldn’t-” He stops, “I was alone, and I know I should have told you. That deal with Niflheim was a cluster, and dad rode me like a prize god damn race horse to get it done--you know, I worked late for like three weeks straight. It’s just been so fucking hectic...” Thor raises a hand to cup her cheek, turning Sif’s face up to his. 

“Thor, please...” She says softly.

“Sif I promise you I’m telling the truth...And I’m sorry I didn’t say anything, I just didn’t want to m-”

Sif shakes her head.

“Alright, alright. Why didn’t you just say so, Thor, I would have been fine with it. I know how you get but...god you really...” She sighs, a frown wrinkling her brow and it _kills_ Thor how sad she looks. 

_You’re a fucking coward, Jesus Christ, be a man and be_ **_honest_ ** _with her..._

“Just please be honest with me Thor.” Again Sif’s green eyes turn up to look at him, pleading. He runs his thumb over her cheekbone and leans in to place a kiss on her forehead. 

“I’m sorry.” 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What to say about this chapter--ah yes! This is me indulging a crackship. I shouldn't be so eager to finish this, and I'm really sorry if things in the next chapter (or this one for that matter) seemed rushed. If they do, please tell me. Thank you for everything, as usual!

Everything starts falling apart around New Years Eve. 

Well, it starts on New Years Eve. 

Loki’s standing at the bar that’s set up in one of the exhibit halls of the Los Angeles Convention Center--the building is all dressed up in silver and blue light, humming with soft music and the crowds murmuring. This little shindig is just a New Years Eve party dressed up in Tony Stark pomp, and done under the fine excuse of fundraising for the Avengers Initiative, some foundation he’d set up for law enforcement around the country, or for his boyfriend Steve--Loki thinks they’re one in the same. 

Anyway, he’s at the bar with his friend Darcy who, after he’d seen the “+1” option on the invite, had been asked immediately. He didn’t want to give himself time to think about inviting Thor. Not only was that notion silly, but all together impossible, so he decided to ask his best girlfriend anyway. She was much more fun, even if Loki didn’t want to have sex with her at the end of the night. 

Maybe, maybe if he has enough of these dirty martinis--

“Good gravy this is the best martini I’ve ever had.” Darcy mumbles, taking another sip of her drink. 

“Get away from me. If you ever say something like that again I’ll strangle you,” Loki says, raising an eyebrow at her as she laughs, “But they are damn good-” 

“Oh, hey, my friend Natasha is here, do you mind?” Darcy has a little fit, squirming or something, and raises her hand above her head, waving. Loki inhales heavily, and nods, because if this party doesn’t pick up some time soon, he’s going to have to leave. WIthout the promise of seeing Thor, Loki is intent on getting stark raving drunk, so entirely plastered that he can’t stand and Darcy has to carry him home. He’s going to call Thor when he gets there too, and he’s going to tell that stupid golden retriever of a man that he hates him. Or something. 

“No not at all.” Loki shrugs, sipping at his martini. 

“Okay, c’mon.” She hooks her arm through his, and all too soon Loki is being dragged through the crowd, martini splashing out on the ground onto some gentleman’s shoes. He laughs, but doesn’t  get the opportunity to apologize. 

Soon, after bumping off of people, and no doubt spilling more of his drink, Darcy stops, and starts trilling over a rather buxom red head sheathed in a tight black dress. 

“Oh, no-I’m here with, Loki turn-this way- This is my best friend, Loki, he invited me. He’s a writer. Loki this is Natasha, Natasha, Loki.” With a hand on Loki’s arm, Darcy looks up at him, then back to Natasha. 

“Lovely to meet you.” He coos, shaking her hand. She smiles at him, but there is something cold about her--and he immediately likes _that_ of course. 

“And this is her boyfriend Clint,” Darcy says next, pointing her drink at the blond man at Natasha’s side. Loki just nods at him, “And her friend Bucky.” Now _that_ one, Loki grins at, extending his hand--left, naturally, for he was left handed--and is met with a cool, unnaturally hard hand. 

“Wow,” Loki says, looking down at their hands. “Quite a grip you’ve got there.” The fingers wrapped around his aren’t fingers--well they are, they’re just _metal._

“Cybernetic,” Bucky grins, and oh, Loki likes him. He pushes up his sleeve a little when Loki lets go of his hand, exposing more of the metal arm. “Stark actually designed this for me.” Fascinating as that is, Loki’s attention gets somewhat occupied by a flash of blond hair. 

He turns away from the little group, pushing up on his tiptoes to see between the crowd, even though he knows he and the man he saw are both taller than most of the people here. People move, but Loki’s quarry does not, and so, with a bit of weaving, he can see him perfectly. He’s talking to Stark, apparently, and that hot blond boyfriend of his-- _god, who is he? Steve, he’s a fucking firefighter or something ridiculous--_ grinning and laughing. Loki can’t move, but he smiles. He should have known. 

But before the warmth in his chest spreads, the crowd parts a few inches enough for Loki to see the short brunette standing at Thor’s side. She’s wearing a silvery sort of dress, one hand wrapped around Thor’s forearm, from what Loki can see. If he had a heart, it would have splintered a little. 

_Is that really her? What a cow..._

He scowls, takes a sip of his martini, but keeps watching. Stands absolutely still in the crowd and _stares._

Until Thor, most likely feeling _someones_ gaze trained on him so acutely, turns his head away from the people he’s conversing with, and searches for whoever it is. 

It doesn’t take long until his eyes fall on Loki. 

If Loki had a heart, it would have broken. Shattered, crushed, every sort of unrepairable pain--and it did hurt, it hurt sharply, the look on Thor’s face. 

He looks _horrified_. Like Loki’s never seen. 

The dark haired man clutches at his chest, turning away slowly, before he catches fire under the blue flame of Thor’s gaze. Darcy must know, she must be able to see it in his face, because she turns away from her friends just as Loki is turning back. 

“What, what, what is it?” She asks hurriedly, “You look sick, are you going to be sick?” Loki shakes his head, but he isn’t quite sure if that’s the truth. He looks at his shoes, dazed. 

“No....no I need some air.” He murmurs and begins to step back from their little group, “Excuse me.” Loki says to them, and turns back, the same direction he’d seen Thor. That’s a mistake, he knows, because his course out of the hall will take him right by Thor and his wife, but then again, maybe he wants Thor to see him like this. 

So Loki looks up again, eyes searching quickly, and it takes less time than it had for Thor to look back. His expression is different, to be sure, but still...scared....or something, Loki can hardly see through the tears clouding his vision. He can’t let Thor see him like this, absolutely not. Crying over something so silly, over some stupid man and his wife. 

Loki pushes through the crowd, careful of his martini because when he gets out into the lobby, he’s going to need it. When he looks up and sees Thor so near, still watching him, Loki just ducks his head and wishes he could break out into a run. He needs _out_ of there..

 

 

_“Excuse me,” Thor says, handing his glass of champagne to Sif, “Bathroom.” He smiles at her discreetly, and ducks away from the small circle they had made with Tony and Steve. Loki pushes past people a few feet away, and Thor turns in time to just be on his heels._

__

__

 

 Loki doesn’t miss the footsteps behind him when he gets out into the hall. Still, he’s nearly running at this point, for how fast he’s walking, and he refuses to turn around and look at Thor. Tossing back his martini, Loki drops the glass in a nearby trashcan, and keeps on walking. At this point, he could leave and be content. 

“Loki.” Thor’s deep voice echoes slightly in the concourse, and it draws Loki to a halt though he doesn’t know why. It’s like a chord has been pulled...

_Does that mean I’m his puppet..._

Sniffing hard, Loki tries to collect himself, but knows he’s fraying at the edges. He spins on his heel, puts on a grin that he knows looks something like a snake, or a wolf, and looks up at Thor. It says something about Loki, when the first thought that comes to mind is ‘ _Oh hell, he looks so handsome in that shirt.’_ And for fuck’s sake it’s only a navy button up but--

“Hello _darling,_ fancy meeting _you_ here.” Loki snaps, teeth grinding together to keep himself from screaming. Thor says nothing at first, just walks toward him quickly. 

“Why are you here? I didn’t-” 

That set’s Loki off. 

He scoffs. 

“Why am _I_ here? _I,_ poor little me, Loki Nobody, _I_ received an invitation,” He hisses, as Thor draws closer, “What on earth are _you_ doing here?!” 

“Loki I didn’t mean it like that..” Thor holds his hands out, palms up in a sign of peace. 

“No, you never do, do you.” 

They’re silent for a while, staring at one another. The expression on Thor’s face is....sad and he looks tired. Loki hasn’t seen him in days. And then that look of horror...

Loki looks down at their shoes and swallows hard, trying to keep his composure. 

“Loki-” Thor starts, reaching for the other man, but his head snaps up. 

“You should have seen the look on your face,” Loki murmurs. He’s breaking, can feel himself splitting and it’s awful, he never wanted to show Thor this...whatever this is, “The look on your face was so-...you looked-....so-....horrified to see me...” 

“No,” Thor says immediately, stepping in, “I didn’t expect to see you, Loki, jesus it caught me off guard.” His tone is breathy, light, surprised maybe. Loki lets the blond draw him into an embrace, and he bows his head against Thor’s chest. 

“That isn’t how you look at someone you supposedly love.” He says into the fabric of Thor’s dress shirt, hands curling in the crisp fabric gently. Thor just sighs, his hands lighting on Loki’s shoulders. 

“Loki I didn’t know...” He murmurs, lips brushing the slighter man’s forehead, “How could I have known? I haven’t seen you in days.” A humorless laugh leaves his lips, and Loki pulls away, looking up at Thor with watery green eyes. 

“You haven’t _called_ in days.” Loki counters. Thor nods. 

“We’ve been busy with the holidays....” The blond says quietly, hands slipping down Loki’s twig-like arms, “How was your Christmas?” With a watery laugh, the dark haired man sniffs, and shakes his head. 

“Terribly boring. Darcy invited me to her parents but I’m not her boyfriend, so I didn’t see why I should have gone.” 

Thor frowns. 

“So you wouldn’t be alone...” He murmurs gently. 

“No it’s alright, I’m quite used to that, love.” Loki shakes his head dismissively, and Thor reaches up to brush his thumb under his eye. 

“You alright?” 

“No,” Loki sighs, “God no I’m not alright, you’re here with your wife....” He shakes his head, and turns his head to look out the window, “Who, by the way, Thor. Really. I thought you’d have higher standards, I really have to say I was expecting some-...Megan Fox, I was expecting someone like-” 

Thor’s face is hard, reproachful. 

“Loki. _Don’t._ ” He warns, but Loki scowls at him. 

“Don’t _what,_ don’t insult the woman you’re playing house with?” He doesn’t know why he’s snapping again, but it’s most likely because he’s just so _angry_ with Thor. Under everything, under his hurt, Loki is fucking _angry_ that he’s being used like a god damn washrag and Thor doesn’t have the decency to own up to the things he’s doing. 

“Do you really want to make this worse right now?” Again there’s that hint of _warning_ in Thor’s voice that Loki can’t help but want to test. He wants to know just how far Thor will go _here._

“Make _what_ worse, how could our situation POSSIBLY be any worse Thor, are you joking?” He’s ranting a little. He feels...there’s adrenaline, he feels that, “I lied, it could be worse for you, but it can’t get much worse for me my dear, I hate to say it, but this _is_ worse. I am in _worse_ now. No, worse for you means telling your wife.” 

For a while Thor is quiet, considering. 

“Then why are you still here. If this is so horrible for you, by all means, we can end it here with none the wiser.” That isn’t what he wants, but it sounds like it’s what _Loki_ wants. 

“None the wiser...” Loki muses, “That’s a farce, I’m afraid. If I were to walk out now, you and your little wife would be all the wiser, and I would simply be broken. I’m not going to make it that easy for you...” He murmurs, staring into Thor’s eyes beseechingly. Another long silence. 

“No, I wouldn’t, because it would _kill me too_. I don’t know if you heard me, but I _love you,_ and I want-” 

“Do _not_ tell me I’m the one you want to be with. If that were true, you would have left Sif _months_ ago.” Loki spits, and that much at least is true. He’s so close to Thor now, their noses nearly touch. 

“What’s gotten into you?” Thor asks, genuinely caught off guard by all of this. His thick hands grip Loki’s biceps tight, making sure he can’t go anywhere, really. Loki scoffs again, and he’s done fighting, he really is. He simply _can’t_ with Thor, any further. 

“I’m tired, Thor,” He nearly whimpers, eyes going watery again. It doesn’t matter now, “I’ve been fighting for some level of normalcy my whole life, and that’s all I ever wanted with you. Normal. But I guess it never could be, could it? And it’s driving me mad and I can’t be something you’re ashamed of anymore. I can’t make you tell her, and it makes knowing you won’t all the harder.” Thor shakes his head fervently. 

“No, I told you I’d tell her soon. Just let me get through the next few days. I promised I would-god Loki I _want_ to so badly, just give me a little more time.” 

Loki likes that he’s pleading, but he swallows hard, grimacing. 

“And then we’ll carry on like this for another six months.” He says quietly, and Thor gives his arms a tight squeeze. 

“No, Loki-”

“Let go of me..” Loki tries to pull away, but the blond’s grip tightens again. 

“I said I would, and I will. You think this isn’t hell for me? You think I like waking up in the morning absolutely _miserable_ because I’m not where I want to be?” Thor hisses, face close to Loki’s again. The dark haired man jerks away harder this time, and Thor’s hands give. Loki steps back, his upper lip curling in that way that meant he was disgusted. 

Taking a few steps back, Loki shook his head, and smoothed his hands through his hair. 

“Then prove it.” When he turns to walk away, he hears no footsteps follow him. 

 

Loki finds a restroom, closes and locks the door, and sobs until his head hurts. The fact that he’s crying angers him, makes him feel worse. He doesn’t know how long he’s been gone now, it feels like an eternity, but eventually he tells himself to buck up, splashes some water on his face, and straightens the lapels of his jacket. 

When he returns to Darcy, she’s still with her friends, but she looks a little worried. Asking if he’s okay, she shoves a martini into his hand, and after that it’s hard to say no. That brunette friend of Natasha’s--Loki can’t remember his name now, the one with the metal arm--is looking over at him from the other side of the semi-circle they’d formed around the end of the bar. Loki smirks back at him, and sips his drink delicately. He knows it’ll take about three more martinis to get him frisky enough to talk to the man again, and about five to forget that Thor is here at all. 

 

And that’s exactly how it is. 

Loki flirts _mercilessly_ with James-- _Seriously, you can call me Bucky--_ for what feels like an eternity. And it’s nice, really, Bucky is handsome, has a devilish sort of smile, and a good sense of humor. He’s an Iraq war vet, grew up with Steve Rogers-- _Ah, yes, that’s his name--_ and is thus a personal friend of Tony Stark. He likes men, and that’s enough for Loki. They drink, and they talk, and everything gets nice and fuzzy. 

By midnight, Loki is swaying on his feet, laughing at nearly everything Bucky says. He clings to that stiff metal arm to keep himself standing up straight, and even eventually that arm slinks up around Bucky’s neck, and Loki can’t really tell when, but they kiss. They kiss and kiss and kiss and it’s midnight, and under the din, Loki whispers, _“Come home with me.”_

Bucky just grins, and soon they’re weaving through the crowd, Loki’s hand clutched tight in a metal grip. Everything is humming and hazy and it’s nice, Loki can’t stop grinning as they make their way out of the hall, and into the concourse. From there they stumble outside, kiss there for a while, messily. Then somehow they hail a cab, and it speeds off to Loki’s apartment. 

It’s not complicated after that. Loki lets Bucky fuck him over the kitchen table. It’s never hard enough for him, so he screams for more. He’s lucky that the brunette obliges at all; by the time they both finish, Loki _hurts_ with it, all over. But that was what he wanted. He wanted to feel it the next day, the day after it, when he would no doubt, see Thor. 

It’s one hell of a way to ring in the new year. 

 

 

Loki’s door is unlocked when Thor gets there the next day. He looks around for the apartment’s tenant, but it’s not alarming that he’s not in the kitchen or the living room. Thor stands in the entryway, between the kitchen and the little dining space. He doesn’t know why he’s here, if it’s to make up or fight with Loki, but the more likely outcome is the latter. For a moment he really does wonder if Loki’s home, so he looks to the table, where his keys usually are. 

Nothing is on the table, actually--well no, nothing that _should_ be there (newspapers, magazines, pens, mail, etc) is on it. _That_ is all on the floor. The one thing that is on the table, the thing that doesn’t belong on the table, is a torn open condom wrapper. It’s not the Trojan Magnum they usually use, so immediately Thor knows. 

With a heavy sigh, he runs a hand over his face and tries to tell himself it’s just Loki getting back at him. Loki trying to _show him._ What, Thor has no fucking clue, but does it matter? It’s done, apparently. 

Thor hears the shower running after a few minutes of trying not to get irrationally angry, so he wanders into Loki’s bedroom. He doesn’t bother calling out for his lover, or peeking his head into the bathroom to let him know he’s there. The blond simply sits on Loki’s bed and waits, which gives him time to think. 

Did he deserve this? 

Never, _never_ had they talked about something like this. Thor’s marriage automatically made any exclusivity they may have had completely null and void. 

Maybe he did warrant this. 

Still, that didn’t mean that this didn’t fucking kill him. Just the thought of someone else having Loki like that...it made his hands shake. Thor knew, though, that it was all so irrational...so circular. Just one uroboros cycle of guilt, of inflicting pain, and of blatant misuse of one another in so many ways. 

In the end, when the water squeaks off, Thor blames himself for all of it. He can see Loki in the crack of the open bathroom door, toweling his wild black hair off in the mirror, glaring lightly at his reflection before he wraps the towel around his waist. When the door swings back and Loki turns to walk out into his bedroom, he stops upon seeing Thor. The blond looks up, his eyes sweep over Loki’s lithe figure, and catch on the shadows that dapple his left hip. 

He says nothing as he stands and walks slowly over to Loki in the doorway. Says nothing when he reaches a hand out to the dark haired man’s hip, fingers drifting over the ghosts of bruises. Thor can’t take ownership for them, he and Loki haven’t been recently enough for these to be so fresh. So close he can hear Loki’s breathing, and it’s hitched a little, stuttered. The delicate skin of his throat twitches as he swallows, and Thor looks up to his face. That cold mask his there, sharp chin tipped up proudly. 

“How does it feel?” He whispers, which hurts just a little more than Thor already does. He shakes his head and at this point, he can’t meet Loki’s gaze, so he hides his face in his hands. 

“Did you fuck him?” Thor mumbles pathetically. 

“Don’t be thick just to hear me say it.” Loki says with a chuckle, mercilessly. The blond sighs into his palms, and he wants to _hit_ something. He wishes that _slimy little fuck_ from last night had stuck around long enough to get beaten to a pulp. 

“Did- you- _fuck him?”_ Thor asks again, his hands sliding away from his face. He didn’t want to, but he’s going to let his anger get the best of him. Loki’s brow wrinkles in a confused frown. 

“Of course I did-”

Thor doesn’t let him finish his sentence before slamming his fist into the wall next to Loki’s head. He hears the plaster crumble, feels his skin split, but not much else. Loki shrieks and all but jumps away from Thor. 

“The hell do you think you’re doing?!” He squeaks at Thor’s back, watching the blond run his hands through his hair, and already his feet are moving him toward the doorway, “You’re fixing that!” Loki adds, but Thor can hardly hear him. 

He can’t stand this any longer. He is so weary of lying, of all of this. 

For a moment he lingers in the doorway of Loki’s bedroom, staring wide-eyed at the carpet, and says nothing. He can feel Loki’s eyes on his back, but doesn’t want to turn back around because if he does, he’s going to snap. No, instead he’s going to leave _now,_ and when he gets home, he’s going to tell Sif. So before he can really do or say much else Thor is walking out of the bedroom, across the living room, to the kitchen. Loki trails after him, calling out for him and just _what the hell do you think you’re doing coming here and w-_

Thor tunes it out, yanks back the front door, is out before Loki can catch up to him. 

The willowy man flinches when the door slams, and he lets out a small sob. 

He hadn’t intended for any of it to turn out that way. 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I don't like this. There may be an *alternate* ending also, if you don't like this one either, depending on my laziness. I'm sorry this is such a cop out, but here it is. It's what I planned, but maybe not so well executed. I just don't know how to feel about this yet.
> 
> If this is the end I want to thank you all so much for your kind comments, and I'm honestly so happy/flattered that you enjoyed it!

Thor drives well over the speed limit all the way back to Malibu, hands white-knuckled on the wheel again as he does. He’s not so much mad anymore as he is pulsing with adrenaline and the reminder that he’s done wants to untangle them both from this cluster. How, he’s not 100% sure yet, but he knows he’s got to do it now while he has the motivation. Otherwise, he hates to admit it, but he’ll just keep on like they’ve been going for the past eight months. 

When Thor arrives home, he blows out of the car just as he puts it into park, and stamps toward the door to the house. He enters in a mighty fluster, only to see...

Sif at the kitchen table. 

Her face is splotchy red with tears, but expression otherwise blank as she stares down at the table--

Stares down at the camera in her hands, and Thor’s heart leaps up into his throat because he _knows_ what that is. But that’s _not_ his fucking camera, Thor doesn’t _own_ a camera, so why is it even here? 

“I-..I found...found this in your bag...” Sif breathes, and her voice sounds hoarse, a little broken. 

_Loki._

There’s no real explanation, and, exhaling deeply, Thor closes his eyes. 

“Sif-”

“And I saw,” Her voice does break now, and Thor can definitely tell she’s going to break into tears again soon, “I saw you a-and him....” 

“Fuck....” Thor sighs, dragging a hand over his face. 

“You lied.” She says, and finally looks up at him. Her hands tremble around the little silver camera. 

“I did,” The blond admits, after a length pause. Sif lets out a sigh of anguish, “I never w-” 

“How long?” She bites, letting the camera fall from her grasp as she begins to stand up. Thor swallows, and watches her, his hands on his hips. 

“In a few days-...” He almost can’t say it, he’s already seen the visible evidence of how much he’s hurt her thus far. But he can’t lie anymore. He can’t, he can’t, he can’t, “Eight months,” Immediately Sif gives a wretched sob, her hand flying up to cover her mouth as her eyes snap shut, “Sif, Christ, I’m so sorry. I didn’t want you to find out this way.” He takes a step toward her, but she thrusts a shaking hand out at him. 

“Don’t-don’t...touch me....” Sif hisses, and Thor wonders if that’s disgust in her voice. Is she disgusted that Thor was with a _man?_

They don’t say anything for a long time. Thor doesn’t know what to tell her, really, and Sif is just staring at the kitchen counter. As she blinks though, her expression goes flat in that sort of angered way. 

“Do you love him?” She asks, and now her voice is cold, hard edged. As if it makes any difference to her, if Thor knows his wife at all, she’s going to kick his ass out in about five minutes. So he doesn’t answer for a while, blue eyes drifting to the table, the camera. 

Her wedding ring is sitting next to it. 

“Thor,” Sif barked, “Do you love him?” And then her voice was a little softer, desperate for a straight answer. Thor’s expression and reluctance to answer should say it all, but apparently she wants to hear him say it. He’s still having a hard time processing her ring sitting on the table. Thor rests his fingers res on the edge of it, staring down at the polished wooden surface. 

“Yes.” He very nearly whispers, and Sif lets out some sort of whimper, or sob or sigh or something awful sounding. 

“Oh Thor..” She sighs, face contorting with agony again as a few more tears slip down her cheeks. Bracing a hand on the counter to her left, Sif hangs her head. 

“I didn’t....I didn’t think it would go this far,” He says softly, then sighs heavily, “I didn’t mean it to, Sif, but it.....I can’t explain it...” And really, he can’t put the way he feels about Loki, about how they got here, into words. Love is adequate, but not at all right. 

For a long time, so many long, drawn out minutes, they’re silent, Sif staring out the window above the sink as Thor slumps into a kitchen chairs. He reaches out to take her ring, dwarfed in his fingers. He remembers when he gave it to her, she had beamed and started crying, flung herself at him and sobbed _yes_ into his neck. It seems like that memory belongs to someone else now. 

“You’re um-....” Thor clears his throat, “Leaving then...” He mumbles, almost like he doesn’t want to hear it. But it’s for the best, he doesn’t want to stay with Sif. 

“I’m going to go stay with my parents....For a while...” She murmurs, hanging her head over the sink, as far as Thor can see. He shakes his head, spins her ring in his fingers once, and stands up. Tossing the ring down, he takes up the camera. 

“Stay. I’ll go.” He mutters, making for the door to the garage. That was all over incredibly quick; then again, how much more was there to say? 

“Hold on,” Sif says, voice brusque. She knows he’s going back to _him,_ “I want to know why.” She stares at him, eyes all cold fury. Thor’s jaw clenches and unclenches, hand on the door handle. 

“I...”  He shook his head, unsure of what to say, “We haven’t been happy together for a while, Sif, you know that as much as I do. You n-” Sif’s jaw dropped, and she pointed a finger and Thor accusingly.

“Don’t you DARE blame this on me-”

“I’m not!” Thor yelled, just as Sif had, and stepped away from the door.

“-I still LOVE YOU! Just because we were having _trouble_ doesn’t give you the right to fuck someone else!” Again her voice notched up another octave, the angrier she got. 

“Could’ve fooled me!” Thor countered, and yeah, that was a little low, “I know, I KNOW it was wrong, Sif, but it’s a little late now! Neither of us were even _trying_ to be happy with each other anymore, what does that say about us?” 

“Stop pushing this back on me Thor, this is _your_ fault. I know I didn’t do as much as I should have, but I would’ve if I knew it mean stopping you from cheating on me! You could have said something, we could have gone to counseling! You could have TALKED TO ME!” 

“Yeah? When? While you’re up in the office, or while I’m at work?” 

Sif sighs, shaking her head as her lips purse in that way that says she just cannot believe what she’s hearing. It makes sense really. 

“That’s no excuse. That is no excuse Thor, none of these are. There is no excuse for what you’ve done.” She murmurs to him, eyes meeting his once more. 

“I know,” Thor says immediately, quickly, “Trust me, I know. And I’ve been a coward for eight months, And I’m so sorry for that. I honestly didn’t think....I never thought I’d do something like this. You know me Sif-..but I just...can’t explain it.” It was Loki, really, that drew him in, but Thor doesn’t think he wants to articulate that right now. But Sif narrows her eyes anyway. 

“You think owning up to being a coward changes anything?” She scoffs, “The stuff on that camera explains it all.” Sif nods to the camera in Thor’s hand, and the blond looks down as well. He’s _so_ ashamed she saw that, so inexplicably mortified. 

“I’m sorry,” He whispers hoarsely, shaking his head. He doesn’t look back up at her, mostly because he can’t and she probably doesn’t want to see much more of him. 

“Are you?” Sif murmurs sincerely, “Do you regret this?” 

“I regret hurting you like this.” Thor says simply, voice hard as he lifts his head and looks past her shoulder. With that, he didn’t say implicitly that he regretted his relationship with Loki because in truth he didn’t. He loved Loki, and even though the circumstances were harsh, he didn’t regret a thing. 

 

 

 

 

That night Thor goes back to Loki’s apartment after driving through Malibu and most of L.A. for a few hours. He’d left with that sentiment, and no doubt Sif wasn’t happy with it, but theres no way she could be in this situation. Before he even thought about going back to Loki, to tell him that he’d won Thor, if he’d still have him. After last night he wasn’t sure, but either way, Sif knew now. It was over. So, leaving Sif to their--her house, it was her house now--Thor drove into downtown L.A., and to Loki’s apartment. 

When Loki opens the door, he looks at Thor coldly, like he always does. Instead of saying a word, the blond leans in the doorway, and uncurls his fingers from the camera, holding it in his palm. Loki’s eyebrows arch, his lips purse. 

“I’d been wondering....” He murmurs, then his eyes flick up to Thor, curious and wide as ever. As omniscient as Loki is, he pushes the door back for the blond, and steps forward, _toward_ Thor. Skeptically, the blond appraises him for a second, but Loki lifts his hands a few inches, palms up in a peaceful gesture. 

Thor moves swiftly, wraps his arms around Loki’s middle and drops his head onto the smaller man’s shoulder. Thor is done, with all of this, and although he feels a monumental weight has been lifted off his shoulders, he knows it’s far from over. 

But Loki is here, his spindly arms are draped over Thor’s back, a gentle hand in his hair. He is _there_ and Thor has never been more grateful for anything

__

__

_\------_

__

__

_A few days later Heimdall punches him at work because at that point everyone knows what’s happened with Thor and Sif. Everyone on his floor knows, and so does the rest of the building, he imagines. They all give him these_ **_looks_ ** _and it makes him feel dreadful. The day Heimdall breaks Thor’s nose and blackens his eye, Odin calls his son into his office for an explanation. So he has to explain to his father what happened, everything that happened, and he feels like he’s fifteen again and just totaled the truck. Odin doesn’t really say much, just tells Thor to keep his work and personal life separate, to which the blond replies “Yes sir” and is on his way, tail between his legs._

_That night though, Loki fawns over Thor and his bruises like he’s a bird with a broken wing. It makes any injury worth it._

_A month later, Sif files for divorce. She gives him the papers when he goes home to pick up his clothes, and some other things of his. He stares at them, tells her he’ll have them back in a day or to, and leaves. Later that evening Thor sits on Loki’s couch with him, and they stare at all the papers spread out on the coffee table. Loki is smiling, his hand on Thor’s forearm as he leans in to kiss him on the keep and whisper_

**_“I’m proud of you.”_ **

_They both know it’s a bad, selfish sort of proud--no one should be proud of adultery and the resulting divorce, but Thor gets why Loki is, in his odd way._

_He picks up his pen and signs his name here, here, and here, and is no longer a married man._


	12. Ending #2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ALTERNATE ENDING. Can be read instead of Chapter 11 as the end of this story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is! Sorry it's been a bit, but I needed a break, and to refresh a little. Thank you for all your comments! Hope you guys like this ending better than the last, even though the last bit of it a little ambiguous. I know I do.

The door slamming makes Loki jump. For a while he stands in the living room, staring at the door like he expects Thor to come _back,_ which clearly isn’t going to happen. He lets out a shuddering breath, and walks back into his bedroom to put on some clothes, then react to this properly. The cracked plaster on his wall makes him fucking angry, but he tells himself it’s _his fault._

Loki passes three hours anxiously pacing the living room, biting his nails down to the quick and pulling at his hair. Thor isn’t coming back. 

He _isn’t_ coming back...

The thought makes his chest clench and he wants to scream, and tears blur his vision. So maybe sleeping with someone else was an awful fucking idea, but then again Thor did it all the time, didn’t he? Even then it had apparently broken things, and Loki had the good sense to think it wasn’t repairable. He buries his face in his hands, standing in the middle of the room, and sobs finally. It disgusts him that he’s shed so many tears because of this one, stupid man, or that he let himself get so tangled up at all. When had he become so _soft?_ Where had his walls gone? 

As usual, his sadness turns to bitterness turns to anger, or more accurately a Thor-flavored rage. He screams like he wants and it feels good. There’s nothing of Thor in this apartment, no pictures, nothing of his that Loki can take his anger out on. A bottle of cologne or a shirt, but what good are either of those things broken? Loki would rather have Thor himself, would wrap his hands around that thick neck and squeeze until the blond went blue. It didn’t phase him that thoughts of throttling Thor made him feel better, that was probably normal. 

 

Thor doesn’t come back. Not in that night, not the next morning or the morning after that. Consequently, Loki goes a little crazy. Why he thinks Thor will call is beyond him, but it doesn’t stop him from staring at his phone instead of getting work done as he sits at his desk. He knows Thor won’t come by, but still he stares out the window instead of getting work done as he sits at his desk, looking for that stupid fucking BMW. He buys a carton of Marlboro Reds and smokes as he sits by the window. 

Days pass like that, and Loki marinades in his bitterness. When his phone rings, he looks to see who it is, and when it isn’t Thor, he doesn’t answer. Darcy texts a lot, as does his boss, and the later are the only ones he responds to, telling him he’s fallen ill. Maybe he has, he certainly feels like it. For some reason drinking himself into a stupor isn’t appealing--for a week maybe, then he buys a handle of vodka when he goes to pick up another carton of cigarettes. 

And it’s not like he’s just drinking vodka and orange juice, smoking, and resenting his life away. He writes, makes deadlines, masturbates, cooks dinner. It’s just _different_ now. His head is fuzzy more days than it isn’t now, and he likes it that way. _Numb_ he tells himself, but that technically was a lie because he still curls in on himself sometimes when he lays down to sleep, and the pain hits him. 

When he lets himself think, when he isn’t preoccupied with a piece or sudoku or the New York Times crossword puzzle (none of which occupy him for very long anyway), his mind does wander back to Thor. It would also be a lie to say he didn’t miss the big dolt, because he really _did._ He missed just about everything, from his stupid, sunny grin and the way he laughed, to the way he seemed to envelope Loki when he held him because of his size. Loki doesn’t really even miss the sex all _that_ much (okay, maybe he does, but..), he misses the mundane things more. He misses the fact that Thor could actually make him laugh, that really he was actually very smart. 

He misses the fact that Thor actually put up with him, no matter how nasty he was, at least up until the end. No one had ever really done that. They’d written Loki off as a bitter, or depressed, self-centered asshole and left. Those things may have all been true, but at least Thor loved him for it. 

Then Loki cries, resents himself and Thor, and the cycle starts all over again. 

 

He spends a few months being a recluse, loses about six pounds, lets his hair grow out a little, stops wearing his contacts. When the weather is too hot, he wears the only item of Thor’s clothing left in his dresser drawer; it’s a scrap of a t-shirt, a navy blue thing with no sleeves and an Adidas logo emblazoned on the front. It’s fucking stupid and Loki hates that shirt, but wears it anyway because it’s soft and doesn’t look terrible on him. It’s to big, too, because it’s Thor’s so it gapes...anyway...

Darcy, when she’d been forced to come to Loki’s apartment after the unanswered calls, tells him he looks like shit, but she’s glad he isn’t dead, then leaves. He says nothing really, just shrugs. By nature he isn’t self-destructive, and that isn’t what this is. Although, he doesn’t really know _what_ he’s doing, so maybe it is. 

After the first few months, after six, after ten, it’s just habit. He smokes, he drinks a little too much, but not as much as his father used to, and so he knows his limits. Eventually he starts going out with Darcy, starts sleeping around, just a little. Nameless faces and men and once a woman, but that was just....he couldn’t really explain that one. But even that doesn’t satisfy him, and so he stops. A little voice in the back of his mind (is that a conscience? did he have one of those..?) told him it was because he had loved Thor. That Thor had been _special_ , and that no mass of people who meant nothing to Loki would equal the one that had meant everything. 

Still he vows to himself he’ll never go through anything like that ever again, especially since Thor never had the decency to _call._ Leave a fucking voicemail, even, or a text. Loki would have settled with that instead of nothing. That was what crushed him most after a while, the fact that Thor could just abandon him like that. It made everything Thor had ever told him null and void, worthless. He loved Loki? So what?  Didn’t seem to matter now, did it. 

 

A year passes, and Loki debates leaving California. Maybe back to New York, but he doesn’t have the money or the real motivation, he just toys with the fact because he’s terrified of seeing Thor somewhere out in public. He’s frankly scared of what Thor would think of him now, of his bones that poke out here and there, of the way his clothes smell like menthol. Most likely he’d just laugh. Then Loki wonders if Thor is any worse for wear. Thinking that he is makes Loki grin, but 14 months later, he gets his answer. 

It’s raining, and Loki watches it from his seat at this bar along the window, in this little Italian cafe, restaurant thing--whatever. He’s got his usual lunch in front of him, a cup of espresso and a cigarette, and is staring down at an issue of British Vogue because he likes Daniel Craig. Here and there he’ll look up at people coming into the cafe, a woman with mousy brown hair here, a man and his son there. 

A tall blond, instantly recognizable to Loki by the breadth of his shoulders, and the length of his hair. He’s no different, apparently. 

Thor shakes his umbrella off in the little lobby of the restaurant, and as Loki’s hands begin to shake, he _stares._ He just couldn’t look away. Setting up his umbrella by the door, Thor peels out of his jacket and pulls his phone out before he canvases the cafe with his eyes, obviously looking for the person he’s meeting. 

Loki wonders if it’s a woman. Is it Sif? Maybe he’s seeing another man? 

Well, as with all their other oddly-placed and seemingly obscurely fated meetings, Thor’s eyes stop on Loki, he does a double take, and looks back. Loki feels like a deer in the headlights, frozen in fear, and he just cannot bring himself to look away. It feels physically impossible. His cigarette is burning close to the filter and his fingers, but he can’t really find it in himself to care because Thor is stepping toward him now. 

They both probably look alike, mouths hanging open in awe, and eyes like saucers. But it’s so surreal a moment that Loki doesn’t really care. He swallows hard and shifts in his seat, finally blinking when Thor acknowledges his presence by raising a hand in greeting. 

“Loki,” His voice is off, tight even though he’s clearly trying to play down the situation. Loki ducks his head, eyes finally leaving so he can stare down at his lap, “How-....um...” 

“Oh, fine really, just...uhm...” Loki purses his lips and shakes his head, staring at his open magazine, “And you?” Who knew it would be this stilted and _awkward_. 

“Good, good,” Thor nods, pursing his lips. When he can focus on the blond again, Loki takes a quick canvas of Thor; button up shirt, salmon colored, grey slacks. The shirt isn’t all that flattering, but the shape of course compliments Thor’s body--then again what piece of clothing didn’t, “Didn’t know you smoked.” 

Loki looks at the cigarette like he’s forgotten it, and stamps it out in a nearby ashtray.

“I stopped when I moved to LA, but after you left I picked it up again.” He hadn’t intended on mentioning it so quickly, but there it was. He wasn’t going to sugar coat anything. Thor noticed, as well, rightfully looking at his shoes like he’s ashamed.  

“Look, Loki, I’m sorry I never called I just-...” He shook his head, lips pressing together as he focused his stormy-sea eyes on his loafers, “I thought it was best, for both of us-” 

“ _What?”_ Loki snaps, and he doesn’t mean to, so he clenches his jaw, and is silent for a moment. He did see that Thor had a point, but there were too many questions for Loki to just _let it go,_ “I-...picking up the phone wouldn’t have been hard.” He says, ducking his head a little to catch Thor’s gaze. 

The blond looks up. 

“It was for me, I didn’t think you wanted me around anymore, and you have every right to. And after I told Sif, I just didn’t think it was fair to either of you if I just r-” 

“Wh-... _you told Sif?”_ Loki hisses, anger beginning to rise in his chest, “When? And STILL, nothing?!” He tries and fails to keep his voice down, but Thor holds up a hand, and steps in so close Loki can smell his cologne. 

“I went home that night and told her, yeah,” Thor says quietly, holding up his left hand. There’s no dull silver band on his ring finger like there used to be, “She filed for divorce a month later.” His expression wasn’t angry, but...something....Loki couldn’t put his finger on it. He stares up at Thor, unsure of what to say. 

A long silence fills the air between them, thick like butter, but their eyes stay fixed on one another. 

“And you thought I wouldn’t want to know any of that...” Loki murmurs, his voice no longer strong and confident as he had intended it to say, showing Thor just how bitter he was. Thor sighs through his nose and sets a hand on the back of Loki’s chair. 

“You slept with someone else,” His voice is quiet too, with an edge to it that says he isn’t over the New Year’s Incident either, “You have no _idea_ what I thought.” 

Loki blinks up at Thor, lost for words. 

What he wouldn’t have done to know that Thor had left his wife, that he and Loki could have been together...

Picking up his pack of cigarettes, Loki taps out another with trembling hands, sticks it between his lips, and lights it. Exhaling slowly, he brings his hand to rub at his eye. 

“I was angry...” He says quietly, voice breaking, “I was _jealous._ I always had been, but that night especially,” Saying it now was easier, although he didn’t know why. Maybe because he’d come to realize that no one was like Thor, he couldn’t tell other people the things he could this man, “It-it didn’t mean I didn’t want to be with you.” He feels a lump rise in his throat, but quickly chokes it back with a deep lungful of toxic smoke as he turns his face toward the window. 

Thor’s hand moves up and with two fingers, toys with a piece of Loki’s black hair. It’s near to his shoulders now, the ends freely waving as it naturally was inclined to do. The blond sighs and when the door opens to the cafe, he looks over his shoulder. Fandral is standing there, and nods at Thor when he sees him. 

“I have to go,” He says mournfully, hoping Loki will look back at him again, just once more. He does, blowing smoke out of his nose. Somehow smoking seems fitting for him, however much Thor hates it, “Your number hasn’t changed, has it?” The blond asks softly, and Loki’s lips purse. 

“It may still.” It’s as much of a promise Thor can count on from Loki, and he’s happy with that, even if he doesn’t show it. 

“I’ll call.” He says as he steps away from the bar where Loki sits, and those green doe-eyes follow him. 

Loki glares as he watches Thor walk away, then greet his friend cheerfully. He toys with the idea that Thor is fucking his pretty blond friend, but the fact that his heart is leaping against his ribs chases that thought away. Finishing his espresso, Loki clamps the filter of his cigarette between his teeth, stands, and pulls his jacket from the back of the chair.

He doesn’t want to, but he feels giddy in the pit of his stomach, and when he makes his way to the door, he steals a glance at Thor, then smiles to himself as he pushes out the door.


End file.
